


I Understand

by LadyBlackRose



Series: Roseverse: I Understrand [1]
Category: DCU/Marvel AU
Genre: F/M, M/M, Roseverse, Tattoo Kink, sm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:24:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/170004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlackRose/pseuds/LadyBlackRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratings: NC-17<br/>Warnings: M/F Outercourse, Consensual SM<br/>Word Count: 4,301<br/>Cross posted in my Livejournal and Dreamwidth accounts.<br/>Summary: Fic takes place during the time when everyone believed that Bruce Wayne/Batman had died at the hands of Darkseid. Jason has been trying to cope with little success. Things may be changing He may have found someone who truly understands his need to loose control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Going back to the fridge for another beer, Jason continued pacing through his threadbare apartment. Past last night’s pizza box, around the couch he found at Goodwill last week, (it was a replacement for his last couch, destroyed after yet another fight with Dick), past the weight bench (the only thing worth some shit in this place) and back to where he started. It was crazy, he knew it was crazy but he couldn’t get the idea or the image out of his mind. It haunted him and Jason figured that he had done enough shit in his life to be haunted over without this joining the crew for free. Couldn’t do a damn thing about most of the other crap, but this situation, he knew how to handle. All he had to do to get started was call the last person on earth he ever wanted to talk to again. Sighing, Jason makes his call.  
“Hello, Alfred?”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Eight days later Jason finds himself standing in front of the BlackRose Ink Studio in full Red Hood uniform carrying a large manila envelope. He’s well aware of Rose Morgan’s reputation in both the tattoo and the Meta community, of her skill and discretion. He’s even seen some of her work in person over at Sanctuary, the Meta bar where it’s like the neutral zone on Star Trek, a place where it doesn’t matter what side of the law you’re on everyone’s welcome as long as you don’t pull any shit. He had stopped by to check the place out and saw a couple of guys showing off their tats, including some remarkable BlackRose tattoos.

That’s what started this shit, that incredibly beautiful ink on Edward Nigma’s shoulder; it was so life like, so true that he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was also that night that he had the dream; Jason couldn’t remember the whole of it, just the end, and the final image. It was that image he wanted as a tattoo and he wanted that tattoo to be a BlackRose tattoo. Nothing and no one else could do the image justice. Taking a deep breath Jason is just about knock on the door when he hears a wee small voice behind him.

“Don’t be scared of getting a tattoo from Ms. Rose Mister Red Head,” advises a little girl wearing a maroon school uniform under a thick black sweater. She nods her head of dark brown curl sagely stating, “Ms. Rose is real good at tattoos. Everybody likes ‘em and it hardly even hurts, at least that’s what they says when I see them leave.”

“Ah, that’s Red Hood, not Red Head kid and,” Jason starts.

At that moment a woman, who Jason assumes is the kids Mother or something, comes running out of an apartment down the hall.

“Gerrianne, I told you not to bother with Ms. Rose’s clients,” she warns the little girl. Turning to Jason, she starts for a moment before addressing him.

“I’m sorry, er, Red Hood, she’s just so fascinated with Rose and her work,” she starts

“Yeah, I wanna be a tattoo artist like Ms. Rose when I get bigger. I’m even studying art and stuff in school,” Gerrianne supplies happily.

“Gerri, that’s enough, you’re going to be something more productive and responsible when you grow up like a teacher or a nurse. Now, let’s leave the nice vigi-, errrr, costumed person to his business and get you to school,” Gerrianne’s mother adds quickly while hustling her daughter down the hall and away from the danger that is the Red Hood.

In a pique of perversion Jason turned toward the retreating pair and catching little Gerrianne’s eye tells her “Thanks kid, I feel so much better now. You’ve got a real tattooist’s way of calming a guy down. I think you’re going to be a great tattoo artist.”

Jason chuckles wickedly as he hears Gerrianne burble on about being a tattoo artist and how she calmed down Mr. Red Hood. Turning back, he knocks on the Studio door, waiting to be let in. When the door opens Jason is very happy to be in full uniform including helmet as he is in no way prepared for the sight that is Rose Morgan.

‘Wow, Alfred said that she’s a talented artist, only took client’s by referral, was cool with the metas cause she’s discrete and all; but he never said that she was so damn thick, triple thick but with crazy curves, and but damn, how does she stand upright with those two puppies riding up top. Man, this chick doesn’t just have cleavage, she has HEAVAGE,’ he thought to himself.

“Good morning Red Hood, welcome to BlackRose Ink, please, come inside,” Rose invited in her warm yet husky contralto voice, a voice that held both secrets and promises. “Please make yourself comfortable, you can hang up your jacket in the alcove,” she continues while ushering the infamous Red Hood into her studio. “Can I offer you some refreshments, I have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, soda, juice and water,” Rose offers.

Returning from hanging up his armored jacket on a reinforced hanger made for such garments Red Hood answers, “Nah, kinda hard to drink through this helmet.”

“Well, according to the piece you want done, you may be here a while and may want to take it off to be comfortable. You don’t have to be concerned with privacy in here. Due to the eclectic nature of my clientele I have an excellent security system that includes audio and video inhibitors. No one except me can see or hear you while it’s on,” Rose reassures, “and I am the soul of discretion.”

“Really?” snorts Red Hood, “who installed this security system.”

“Stark International with a recent upgrade by Wayne Tech, the owners seem to have quite a rivalry or something. I got quite a deal playing one off against the other,” Rose chuckles.

“Seriously? Well, maybe later,” Red Hood answers.

“Okay, do you have a design in mind for your tattoo,” Rose asks leading the costumed vigilante into the warmth of her studio waiting room. Inside the Afrocentric themed room are display cases filled with historical and whimsical bits of tattoo lore and fancy. The room is a mini Tattoo Museum that Red Hood takes his time surveying.

“The walls are hyperinsulated and reinforced with concrete posts as well as rebarb. The windows are heat reflecting, one way bullet-proof glass without advertizing or indication of the nature of the business that takes place here. My security system is hot linked to 911, not a call center, and there are several ‘panic buttons’ round and about in concealed locations in case of emergencies,” Rose explains as Red Hood explores the room.

“Sound more like a prison than an artist’s studio to me,” he comments.

“Maybe, but it’s to keep the uninvited out rather than the undesirables in,” she answers trying to ease her skittish new client. “So do you have an idea of the ink you want?”

Red Hood opens the large envelope he’s carrying and carefully, almost reverently, pulls out a drawing, more technically accurate than artistically so, but recognizable. He shows it to Rose.

“It’s not very good. Just something I saw in a dream and wanted to have made into a tattoo. I saw some of your work on other people and knew I wanted you to do the ink,” Red Hood explains.

Rose takes the drawing and lays it out on one of the tables in the room. She studies the concept, eyes sparkling with its possibilities. It’s a drawing of the Bat-Signal being beamed on a thickly clouded sky; except that the circle of light that is the signal has been shattered with broken pieces falling and crashing down on the ground as if made of glass and not light. Rose can feel the pain and sense of loss in the drawing and knows that this is something very significant to the Red Hood.

“This is a very powerful image, is the scale you want this,” she asks. “At this size the tattoo would be a good sized back piece.”

“No I don’t want it to cover my whole back,” answers Red Hood. “Actually I hadn’t really thought of where to put it exactly, I just know that I gotta this picture on me.”

“I understand. May I work with this a bit, see if I understand the concept?” Rose asks while taking out her art supplies. At Red Hoods acquiescence, Rose begins to re-sketch his vision, adding more background details. A portion of a misty Gotham skyline for prospective and some blood red coloring to the image to make it appear as if the shards of falling Bat-Signal are bleeding or cutting into the flesh it’s tattooed on. Turning her sketch towards Red Hood, Rose asks,

“How is this? Is this close to your dream?”

Red Hood stops and stills at the sight of the drawing. Walking closer he takes it in his hands and studies it critically.

“This is close, so close…the blood; the sky was bleeding or something. Are you a meta, an empath or mentalist of some sort?” He asks warily.

“Not that I know of, I haven’t been tested, officially. I’m just following the passion in your drawing and how you’ve been acting since taking it out. You really feel this image. I can see its power over you and tried to place it on paper,” Rose answers.

Red Hood sits by Rose’s side and together they finalize the design of his tattoo. Again Rose asks Red Hood about the size and placement of the tattoo.

“Okay, lets work on placement and let that dictate size,” Rose suggests, “upper or lower body,” she asks

“Hmmm…upper.”

“On the front or back of your upper body?”

Thinking for a moment Red Hood knows that he does not want to have to look at the image everyday but wants it on him so “on my back,” he answers.

Considering the location of the tattoo and the proposed size of it, Rose tells Red Hood the cost of completing the work. He looks at her critically for a moment, then looks at the sketch they’d just finished, and finally remembers the look of several completed tattoos he’d seen at Sanctuary and agrees to the price, paying it in cash.

“Well, now that that’s finished, go into the changing closet and take off all the clothes from the waist up and we’ll see where on your back we’ll place this,” Rose instructs.

Red Hood walks into the indicated room and sees that it has a short term memory programmable combination lock on it so that he can secure his stuff while getting the tattoo completed. Removing his chest armor, padded under tunic and undershirt…and helmet, Red Hood sets the combination on the lock and walks out into the inking portion of the studio. There Rose is sorting through some transparencies and on the table next to a rather large padded physical therapy table where she’s working right now is a tray with a hot damp towel, glass of water and an icy bottle of Coke.

“Are you sure you’re not a psych Meta,” Red Hood asks suspiciously.

“Psyche, shmyche, it’s only logical that you’re probably thirsty by now so I set out some drink. Now come here,” Rose instructs.

On the table are several sized transparent copies of the proposed tattoo. They decide on the smallest and largest sized copies that best show the image before Rose leads Red Hood off to an area with a digital camera and monitor. Taping the transparencies onto his back in various locations and allowing Red Hood to view them via the monitor they are able to decide on what size tattoo to ink and that they want to place it on the lower right quarter of Red Hood’s back.

“How long will this take, can you finish it all tonight?” Red Hood asks.

“Usually something this large and complex would take at least two if not three sessions according to the client’s level of pain tolerance,” she answers.

“Don’t you worry about that, pain I can take, waiting; now that’s a problem.”

“Well, if you think you can take it you and your impatience have been Blessed, my next client had to…cancel, as it were,” Rose answers smiling.

“Take it? Take It? Chick, bring it on I ain’t got all day,” Red Hood exhorts.

Now that her client is psyched up about the ink, Rose can get to work.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

In no time Rose has a shitless Red Hood sitting on the reinforced modified massage chair she uses for applying back tattoos while she sets up her work area.

“Will you please undo your belt and loosen your pants,” Rose asks as she begins to prepare his back for the ink. “I’ll need to get my hands down low and your pants’ll be in the way,” she answers his unasked question. After transferring the tattoo image from special copier medium to Red Hood’s back Rose is now ready to begin outlining the work.

Usually this is considered the most painful part of the tattooing process and Rose keeps a hand on her client’s body to gauge when they can and can no longer take the pain. As she began to outline the Gotham City skyline, Rose placed a stabilizing hand on Red Hood’s back to hold his skin in place as well as to gauge Red Hood’s reaction to the sensations of the outline process. While many who feel this sharp walk of the tattoo gun on their skin, especially for the first time, tighten and tense up, Red Hood’s body stills and accepts the sensations. Intriguing. Rose smiles and settles into her work.

Sooner than usual Rose and Red Hood settle into the rhythm of the tattoo; synchronizing their breathing, their movements and reactions until theirs is a duet of soundless harmony and motion limited dance. A ballet to music of their own making that calls forth the tattoo’s true form up from his soul and onto Red Hood’s flesh.

As they shift their movements to allow Rose access to more of his flesh, Jason realizes that there is something going on between the two of them, a song or something, different from the music playing over the sound system in the studio. No, this, this sound is being made of the sounds of his heart beating, the rhythm of their breathing, and by the feel of Roses’ pulse felt through her hands on his body. It’s accompanied by the subtle scent of whatever musky-woody-spicy perfume she’s wearing and the smell of clean honest sweat from his own skin. Smiling with a soft sigh, he finds himself relaxing even more and even pushing back into the sensations of the tattoo gun on his flesh. He has decided to enjoy, no savor this rare interpersonal connection for however long it lasts.

As their connection deepens and their dance continues, more and more details present themselves for Rose to reveal. Sinister shadows and gothic gargoyles perched in wait of prey. Misty, murky clouds onto which the Bat-Signal is shone billow up like they have been belched from the city itself with a moon gibbously lurking amidst them, images that mirror the character of the city of Gotham. The heart of the tattoo, the Bat-Signal itself, is shattered as if hit from behind by God’s own nine-iron. Only eight shards cling stubbornly to their home with a ninth slowly giving way to follow it’s brethren as they shower the ground below with shards of light that bleed from this grievous injury.

Hours pass in this manner with breaks taken for the taking in and letting out of the energy necessary to complete their task. Just as Rose finishes the final applications of blood-red ink to the shards of light Red Hood’s souls tells her that this is not yet complete.

Getting up, Rose walks to the head of the massage chair to speak with her partner/client.

“The tattoo on your back is the one we worked on together, but I want to add to it, to complete the message. I want to add the origin location of the Bat-Signal, to show how it should look whole and how what was once whole is now broken,” she informs Red Hood.

Red Hood starts at Roses’ words, nodding both in agreement and because that…that is what his dream was all about. While he still can’t or won’t remember all the details of what he dreamt, he remembers that’s the sentiment that permeated his dream. That what was at once whole, ‘though fucked up beyond belief like most dysfunctional families, is now broken. He barely hears Rose as she directs him to lie down on the long massage bed, shifting his pants waists even lower in order to place this portion of the design closer to his hip. Rose uses a soft fragrant blanket folded length-wise as a body bolster to position Red Hood just where she needs him for this.

When Rose gets restarted, Red Hood jumps, startled at the difference in sensations as the tattoo gun works on flesh less hardened and more sensitive then that on his back. As Rose works he decides not to let the painful sensations wash through him like before. No, this time he keeps them, gathers them up to himself and holds them like he’s holding the exotically scented blanket he has in his arms. Burying his nose in the blanket he allows himself to get lost in the pain and sensations surrounding him.

Allowing himself to become so lost in sensations he is not ready when he feels Rose coat his new tattoo with something soothing and cooling. His startle has Rose restating,

“It’s just some aftercare gel that will help with the healing while keeping the colors bright. Now look to at the monitor to your left,” she instructs.

Doing as instructed Red Hood turns his head to watch as Rose uses the digital camera to give him a guided tour of his new ink. Stunned, that’s the only way to classify his reactions. Stunning is the only way to classify the tattoo. It’s not his drawing, it’s not even Roses’ sketch, it is his dream, engraved in ink on his flesh just like it is in his mind. Closing his eyes, Red Hood sighs,

“It’s…perfect.”

He just lies there while Rose covers the tattoo in a big sheet of gauze, taping it lightly around the edges. He mostly hears her instructions on aftercare and notes the aftercare kit she places on the table next to them. Finally it’s time for what he’s been dreading since Rose finished the tattoo. Getting lost in the sensations, he finds that he also lost control of himself and now has a really hard problem that he’s not exactly sure how to deal with.

“Okay, you can get up now, I’m all done,” Rose announces

“Ahhh no, I think I need to lie here for a bit and ya know, like, recover,” Red Hood answers. ‘That sounded so damn lame to me I know it sounded like shit to her,’ he thinks to himself.

He even tries crossing his right leg back over his left and tensing up hard while laying there to distract himself away from his hard as a fucking rock dick. This is so damn embarrassing, ‘I haven’t done this since I was…damn, how long ago was it that I lost control of my cock?’ he asks himself. Woolgather, again, which again, works against him as he feels Roses’ hands just touch his right hip and shoulder before he’s flipped over onto his back exposing his engorged and demanding cock for all to see.

His first reaction is to slide off the table and escape to the bathroom where he could take care of this instead of sit there and die of embarrassment. When he tries he’s stopped by a large round unyielding knee slid up between his legs, wedged up tight against his aching balls. Snapping his head up to look at Rose he sees an understanding in her eyes and a small kitten smile playing about her lips.

Rose stands balanced on one leg with her knee braced on the table wedged between Red Hood legs, snugged up close and personal with his balls. She looks down at the length of hardened cock between them, licks her lips, then, looks up into his eyes. She waits, waits on Red Hood’s signal as his next move will dictate how this will play out. Will he inch up…will he slide forward…no, Red Hood presses down, increasing the pressure of Rose’s knee and she knows what he needs.

Reaching forward Rose runs the deep red manicured nails of her hands up Red Hood’s thighs, around the waistband of his pants and up to the small of his back. Pressing her nails into him, urging Red Hood forward, harder into her knee pulling a soft sound out of him; pulling him closer to her, so that all she has to do is whisper,

“I understand.”

Bringing her knee down despite Red Hood’s small whimper Rose takes the purplish head of his cock in her left hand and using her thumb, begins spreading his now leaking precum all around before tightening her grip, squeezing and kneading his head firmly. With her right, Rose upends some of the tattoo aftercare lotion into her hand, just a small amount, and then begins to fist the length of Red Hood’s cock, gently at first to spread the lotion around then harder and harder still. She synchronizes her hands so that the left squeezes tighter on the right’s up-stroke and kneads on the down-stroke, never once taking her eyes off of Red Hood’s eyes.

It’s Red Hood who moves his eyes first, looking down at the deceptively soft appearing coco brown hands as they manhandle his cock, just like…just like…he’s always wanted…Suddenly Rose’s knee makes another appearance, but instead of being aimed at his balls, with a quick shift using his cock as a handle, Rose has the apex of her knee pushing towards his entrance, causing him to splay his hands out behind him for balance. Dropping his head back, panting and making sounds he can’t even begin to control, Red Hood grinds his ass against Rose’s knee, wishing it were more, glad to have something hard to work with.

Sensing he’s close to cuming Rose changes what her hands are doing so that her left continues to squeeze but now presses her thumb into that most sensitive divot under the head while her right strokes his shaft as hard and fast as she can.

Close, he’s so damn close…Red Hood opens his legs wider as if he wants to take Rose’s whole knee up his ass. Close…closer…almost there…suddenly a cry of release is ripped from his throat as his cock pulses his load up onto his chest.

Rose continues to milk Red Hood’s cock while he cums, making sure to wring every last drop out of him before letting go. Then slowly she removes her knee from his groin and releases the tight grip she has on his softening cock. She takes one of the many towels near them and cleans away the cum off Red Hood’s stomach before laying him back down on his belly and covering him with the blanket they’ve been using all evening long. Stroking his hair, settling it back in place Rose leans down to Red Hood’s ear and whispers,

“I understand.”

Now she walks away so that he can recover in peace, closing the door behind her as she leaves. Rose walks into the bathroom to wash her hands before heading into the kitchen where she fixes herself a hot cup of tea, adding to it a healthy dose of Courvoisier for fortification. Sipping her drink slowly Rose reflect that with as busy as business has been lately she hasn’t taken time out for herself in a long time, that she hasn’t Topped anyone in even a longer time longer then that. It felt real good to flex that muscle once again.

Sitting quietly and listening, Rose can hear when Red Hood finally gets up of the table. She hears doors opening and closing, the rustling of cloth and paper. Finally she hears the sound of boots walking towards the front door, it opening and closing. Sighing Rose walks back into the inking portion of her studio in order to clean up and is pleasantly surprised to find it clean already.

“Wow, he sure moves fast when he wants ta,” she mutters aloud.

All she has to do now is give every surface used a good wipe with a disinfectant cloth and set the reusable tattoo equipment to soak before placing it in the autoclave. He even put the dirty laundry in the proper hampers, now there’s a client meant to be kept. Just as she is about to pull out her disinfectant Rose notices something glittering on the side table. Walking over she picks it up. It’s a small black rose made of crystal or finely cut glass, it doesn’t matter which as it’s absolutely beautiful.

“Most of my clients bring me something tattoo in nature for the display cases out front, he’s one of the few to bring something just for me,” Rose says smiling.

After cleaning up shop and switching the security system from day to night mode, Rose takes her gift back into her apartment and places it in the display case there set aside for more personal items. Smiling she prepares for bed, and to take care of her own release.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Jason Todd (Red Hood)/Rose Morgan (OC), Dick Grayson (Batman)   
> Continuity: Roseverse Crossover AU  
> Ratings: NC-17   
> Warnings: M/F Consensual SM sex   
> Word Count: 4,808  
> Summary:Fic continues several weeks following Chapter 1. Jason is recovering from a very rough mission and Dick is not making things any easier. He turns to an new friend because sometimes a man has needs someone who understands.  
> A/N: Special thanks to Fictional Dixid at LiveJournal for her largesse as Beta, couldn’t do this without you

Stepping into the shower and turning the hot water on blast Jason is so glad that this case was finally over, well the portion that had bled from Gotham to New York was over anyway. They had found the missing C4 stolen from the munitions plant as well as all the stolen cell phones. The Sleeper Cell’s plan had been both brilliant and audacious, steal expensive high end Smartphones, load them with enough C4 to take out about 20-30 people each then return them to the factories to be packaged and sent out to the cell company’s customers. On some appointed date all the phones were scheduled to explode at the same time following some wacked out message sent to the press about the evils of rampant consumerism, unchecked greed, yadda-yadda-yadda fucking-yadda.

Damn, this is no not what they needed, a home-grown terror cell not after Americans using their geo-political-religious belief as an excuse to hate and kill, no this bunch of dick-spews were mad that some people had shit and they didn’t and that it wasn’t fair. Fucking stupid whiners. As for the exact timing of the great Equalizing, well they didn’t know that data yet but give Big Dickie-Bird and his newest chick-a-dee some time and they’d have it soon enough.

Leaning forward in the shower allowing the hot spray pelt into his sore shoulders, Jason shudders, remembering tonight’s horrific events. The cell had set up their headquarters in the subbasement of a foreclosed inline skate factory out in Long Island City, an industrial area that wouldn’t suspect trucks moving about at all hours of the day and night, nor would the locals think strange noises in the night unusual either. Besides with their base being so far underground, the sound of their testing the exploding cell phones barely registered above ground anyway. Jason raises his face into the shower’s spray as if trying to scour the image of that room full of the remains of people locked inside with one of the exploding phones. The carnage was total, not a one survived the blast. At least he got to the sick fucks who did this, now they either would no longer, or could no longer, be a danger to another man, woman, or child ever again.

Sighing, Jason takes the time to wash his new tattoo with the special soap Rose, his tattooist, included in her Aftercare Kit. At least he managed, yet again, not to damage his tattoo. Placing that extra padding and armor around his back was a bit of a bother but he does have other bits and shit back there that could really use the extra protection. Finally turning off the shower and stepping out Jason dries off and slathers some of that Tattoo Goo on his ink to speed up the healing and stuff.

Leaving the bathroom wearing nothing but that towel around his waist Jason walks into the kitchen to get himself a beer.

“You want one Dickie-Bird?” Jason asks the breathing darkness inhabiting the far corner of the living room.

“You could have left them alive you know!” Dick accuses angrily.

“And you are so very welcome for all the time, pain and suffering I endured to stop that fucked up bunch of whiners from blowing up hundreds of people on a fucking whim,” Jason retorted, getting angry himself.

“We might have been able to get more information out of them except you blew the heads off the of the cell’s leadership.” Dick explodes walking out into the light. “Damn, now it’s going to take more time connecting them to the cells in Gotham. How many people might die because we have to take that time? Jason why can’t you think?!”

“Think, THINK, did you see what those sick fucks did in their test chamber?!” Jason shouts. “There were women and children back there, they had a goddamned pregnant woman in there Dick, and they blew her and her unborn child up with C4 just to see if they could. I don’t give a hot damn about your investigation taking extra time; pull in Tim to help if you don’t think you can’t hack it. I always knew he was the better detective…after Bruce…”

“Okay, okay, let’s reset here,” Dick sighs tiredly. “Yes, thank you for what you did. I know that it was hard nor was it pleasant. These people have no grasp of basic decency and are dangerous as hell. Did you get hurt tonight?” Dick asks trying to calm the situation down.

“Nothing I haven’t had to deal with before so spank you very much for this lovely visit, we just have to not do it again. Now lock my fucking door on your way out!” Jason grates out walking away from Dick on his way to his bedroom.

“Jay, what happened to your back?” Dick asks concerned at seeing what looks like burn or first aide ointment on Jason’s lower back. He walks up to his fellow Robin turning on the living room lamp for more light.

Groaning deep in his throat Jason wants to beat himself about the head for forgetting his new ink. He had planned on keeping it a secret for as long as possible because it was…his, and he wasn’t ready to share, yet. But leave it to fucking Dickie-Boy Grayson to get him so mad as to forget the hours of painstaking art Rose inked on his skin. Jason whips around to face Dick again, but not quickly enough.

“It’s not a burn or wound so stop with the mother hen act,” he snarks at the elder Robin.

“Well if it’s not let me see it Jay,” Dick asks.

“What, you all eager to see my ass Dick? If you want to play grab ass just know that I don’t put out with out dinner and a show first,” Jason quips acerbically while backing away from Dick’s continued advance.

Dick continues to stalk Jason, knowing that if he’s really hurt just slathering the site with first aide ointment won’t do a damn thing to stop the wound from becoming infected. Concern for his Jay-Bird adds speed to his sudden feint allowing him to pin Jason face first into the wall so that he can see to his back. Dick knows that Jay is hurting worse than he’s letting on if a move like that can pin him so quickly. Ripping off Jay’s towel Dick is not prepared for the sight that greets him on Jason’s back. Tilting his now pliant Jay-Bird so that he can better see his back, Dick is amazed at the image Jason had tattooed on his skin. Stooping down to get a better look he studies the tattoo, all it’s intricate details and the startling image of the shattered Bat-Signal that touches Dick in places he’s not looked too closely at since…

“Wow, this is a really beautiful piece of work Jay, when did you get it done, who did it?” Dick asks standing back up.

Jason snatches his towel out of Dick’s hand and wraps it back around his waist, hoping Dick doesn’t notice how bad his hands are shaking. “It’s just a tattoo Dick, don’t get all… Look, can we talk about this later, I’m tired, go home,”

“Okay, I was just…” Dick starts then leans in and gives Jason an awkward hug and pat on the back. “Don’t make yourself a stranger, you’re still family, call, text, something…Alfred and Tim worry about you…and, take care of yourself Jason,” Dick admonishes softly before leaving the apartment.

Jason waits until he can no longer hear the sound of footsteps descending stairs, then waits for the throaty roar of the tricked out ‘Busa Dick rides when in civies as it takes off down the street. Only then does he slam himself back into the wall at the exact same spot where Dick pinned him. Jason presses himself into the wall, panting, heart pounding, unasked questions and unvoiced needs all screaming in his head.

“Damn you Dick Grayson, damn, damn, damn you,” Jason groans into the wall. “No, I’m the one who’s damned,” he whispers.

It takes a while but Jason finally falls asleep that night. But it’s not an easy sleep as his dreams are filled with shadows that growl and demand and take what they want.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

Funny, Rose was expecting to hear from Red Hood sooner than later but when dealing with the costumed community normal timing goes right out the window. When she does finally get the call requesting another consultation meeting she readily agrees and places him on her schedule. Now, Rose wonders if he knows why he made the call. She also wonders of maybe she is a little psychic…naahhhh!

On the appointed day and right on time too, Rose answers her Studio door to let in Red Hood.

“Welcome back Red Hood,” she greets “Come in, can I get you a coke?”

“Yes,” he answers removing his jacket and helmet in the alcove, “thank you.”

Rose brings him back to the Waiting Room and gets him settled down with an ice cold glass of Coke and waits for Red Hood to let her know what he wants. He was kinda vague over the phone earlier but she’s come to expect that from this very paranoid community.

“So what can I do for you today, are you having problems with your new ink or need a touch up or something?” Rose asks

“No, the inks fine, healed up nice with that goop you gave me. No, I wanted to bring you something. I was up here in New York, working. When I had the time I went and took these pictures for you,” Red Hood answers while handing Rose a small photo album.

Opening the album Rose finds that inside are pictures of Coney Island. There are pictures of what rides are left, of the museum, Nathan’s Hotdog Stand and of the Sideshow area. There are pictures of some of the acts still working the Sideshow including the Tattooed Men. The original Tattooed Man had died several years earlier, Rose attended his funeral, now his protégées were holding up his legacy, displaying their wonderfully colorful ink for all to see. Red Hood even had a shot of one of the younger Tattooed Men getting a new tattoo on one of the few clear areas of skin he had left. Closing the album Rose smiles up at him.

“This is wonderful, thank you. I’ve been planning to do something like this for months but the studio has been so busy that I hadn’t had the time.”

“You’re welcome. Seems like a shame that their tearing down the place to build what, a mini mall or some crap,” Red Hood exclaims softly. “It’s like they don’t value their history or something.”

“Or something like how much they love money. But they do plan on replacing the original Coney Island with some family centered entertainment center, i.e. something way too expensive for the average person to go to often, it’s going to become just another tourist trap, just you watch and see. Anyway, I thank you for this. You didn’t have to, you know.”

“But I was there and taking pictures of…stuff…anyway so why not do something nice for you,” he answers blushing slightly.

‘Okay, I gave her the album already so lets just make with the goodbyes and bounce…so…why the hell am I still here, why can’t I leave. Shit, you are so damn pathetic Todd, that’s why…fuck!’ Jason berates himself mentally.

Rose sits quietly with Red Hood, the infamous Red Hood, a known vigilante with a reputation for leaving as many bodies behind him as he is known for protecting what he considers ‘his’ mean streets. But this big bad anti-hero vigilante killer, blushes over a simple compliment. Rose knows what to do now, understands what he needs.

“Hey, I know you said that your ink healed well but since you’re here, let me take a look at it and give you my professional opinion,” Rose offers while standing.

“Okay, but you don’t have to, I mean its fine, no problems,” answers Red Hood also standing and following Rose as she begins to walk back to the inking portion of the Studio.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Once there Red Hood follows Rose’s instructions to go take off his clothes from the waist up so that she can see how his ink is healing. Walking out of the dressing room topless Red Hood walks over to the large massage table where Rose is standing waiting for him. He notices for the first time that Rose is wearing all black today, a snug fitting top with a deep ass neckline and soft fluttery sleeves over a flowing black skirt.

‘Damn, am I so fucked up that I totally didn’t notice just how tight that fricking top is. I need to get my horndog card cancelled if I’m so fucked up as to miss all a that,’ he thinks to himself.

“Well come over, I want to see how your back is doing,” Rose encourages, “I promise not to bite, at least not at first,” she flirts.

Shaking his head at Rose’s banter, Red Hood walks up to her and turns around so that she can see his back. Rose repositions Red Hood so that he is facing the massage table and the tattoo is better lit by the overhead lights. Leaning down so that she is at eyelevel with the ink, Rose takes a critical professional look at it’s healing and to see if there has been any damage taken from the nature of his work.

Looking back over his shoulder at what Rose is up to behind him Red Hood realizes that from this angle he can look straight down her cleavage, her heaving with every breath cleavage. He whips his head around quickly hoping that she did not catch him catching a visual feel on her boobs.

‘Oh damn, I can feel her breathing on me…all hot and…’ he thinks to himself trying not to squirm.

“Okay, looks good,” Rose announces straightening up. “Just let me clean it off with an antiseptic wipe and apply a skin conditioner since I have you all exposed and everything,” she offers.

Clearing his throat Red Hood agrees, hell at this time he’d agree to much of anything just to hang out here a little longer.

‘Yep, just hand in your Cool Card and pray that the other Birds never hear about this,’ Jason thinks miserably.

For Red Hood this was just a…change to be with someone he wasn’t fighting with or trading insults with or who wasn’t afraid of him.

Instructing Red Hood to bend at the waist placing his hands on the massage table in order to stretch out the area tattooed, Rose proceeds to wipe his tattoo down with antiseptic cloth, cleaning away any sweat or dead skin cells before applying the cooling skin conditioner. Smoothing the clean scented lotion onto Red Hood, Rose takes the time to work the lotion into his skin, moisturizing the dry skin, massaging the area lightly to improve circulation.

“There, all finished,” Rose announces walking away from Red Hood’s bent back. “You should really use a light moisturizer on your skin, it’s very dry. Either that or wash using a moisturizing body wash.”

All Red Hood can do is grunt an answer as he takes a few moments to get himself together.

“You okay back there?” Rose asks.

“Yeah, just fine, look thanks for….” Red Hood begins turning around only to have the words fade out in his throat as he comes face to face with a changed woman. Gone was the sweet flirty professional who created works of art on skin instead of canvas. In front of him now was a sultry, sensuous force of nature coming towards him with the intensity of a storm-front…just like the last time. And although Red Hood could snap Rose’s neck with one hand and not even break a sweat he finds himself backing up away from her until his ass bumps up against the massage table.

Rose stands in front of Red Hood, belly to belly, breast to chest, and slowly brings up a black draped knee, working it between his thighs, pressing it against his now tight balls. Rose looks up, capturing his eyes, waiting on Red Hood’s signal as his next move will again dictate how this will play out. Will he inch up…will he slide forward…no, Red Hood presses down, increasing the pressure of Rose’s raised knee, letting her know what he needs. Rose hikes her leg up harder, compressing his sex up against his body with her large round knee, wringing a gasp out of Red Hood as his eyes shutter in anticipation. Rose walks the points of her manicured nails up his abdomen, up his chest until she reaches Red Hood’s nipples. These she grips between her fingers and pinches firmly, slowly tightening her fingers, gripping him harder until he arcs up beneath her hands. The snatching of her hands off his nipples gifts Rose with Red Hood’s first grunt of reaction. Wrapping her hands around his chest so that her thumbs continue to stimulate his nipples, Rose pulls Red Hood closer to her and states softly,

“I understand.”

Lowering her knee and releasing his chest but running her hands down his body Rose stops above Red Hood’s belt buckle.

“Will I loose my hand if I try to open this my self,” she asks?

Whipping his hands around to his belt, Red Hood presses the safety release on the buckle before opening it. Rose lays her hands on his, stopping him from unfastening the rest of his pants and firmly places them back on the massage table telling him,

“Thank you, now, Don’t. Move.”

Rose slowly unzips Red Hood’s leathers, sliding them down his hips to fall at his feet with briefs and jock following suit releasing his beast from its leather encased captivity. Rose reaches over and gathering up some skin moisturizer slathers the cool cream onto Red Hood’s hot balls. He rises up on his toes with a sharp intake of breath but does not move. Rose continues to massage his precious cargo causing Red Hood to sigh and rock his hips slightly.

“Don’t Move,” Rose admonishes tightening her grip on his balls enough to make Red Hood rise up on his toes again.

Taking more skin moisturizer in hand Rose slides her hands slowly up his cock, coating it liberally with the cooling lotion. When she reaches its purpling head Rose wraps her hand around it, holding it firmly in her left hand while she makes pre-cum and lotion spirals around and around and around and around its very tip with the fingertips of her right hand. Rose continues until Red Hood is panting, straining not to move, just as he’d been told.

Red Hood finds himself beyond thought; all he can do is feel. His pants and underwear cutting into the bottom of his legs, the edge of the massage table digging into his ass, how this same edge crumples under the death grip of his hands. But most of all he feels the delicious torture Rose is inflicting on the head of his cock. Nothing else matters now, not what he’s done, not what he has to do, not who he knows, nothing but what Rose wants to do to his body. Suddenly he goes from being on the edge of loosing it all over Rose’s fingers to being spun around and slammed down face first on the massage table with his old friend, the exotically scented blanket, between his face and the cold leather. He barely registers Rose’s instructions but does move in response to the pops and smacks she peppers on his legs and thighs culminating with the solid smack on his ass followed by the instructions to hang on and

“Do. Not. Move.”

The next thing he hears are the sounds of latex popping as gloves are being donned behind him. Then comes the shock of coolness as something thick and wet is dribbled between his crack. Latex gloved fingers massage the coolness between his cheeks and tease the entrance to his ass. Red Hood relaxes his muscles back there, hoping that…yes…Rose slides one thick little finger in him, feeling her way about his insides. Red Hoods muffles a sigh into the blanket as he concentrates on holding still.

“You may make whatever sounds feel good, just do not move,” Rose instructs as she adds another thick little finger inside him.

Red Hood lets out a low moan as Rose begins to push her fingers around in him, scissoring them, feeling around until she finds his prostate. His whole body shudders with his suppressed desire to push back into her fingers as Rose continues to stroke and scissor them in his ass. He wanted more, needed more but he was getting there…close…

Red Hood whimpered when Rose slowly removed her fingers from him, he was almost there, again. He feels the soft brush of fabric gliding against his cheeks then something round and solid is placed back at his entrance. Rose’s left hand grips his shoulder, holding it down as the round thing starts pushing into him, sliding up in him, filling him like a cock. Finally Red Hood feels his cheeks come in contact with Rose’s body as she sinks the last available inch of rubber cock inside of him. He can barely wrap his mind around the concept of what she’s about to do when Rose begins stroking her cock out and back into him with a slow steady rhythm. Red Hood relaxes himself, opens himself up to more as Rose slides both hands down to his hips, increasing the strength and speed of her stroke. And his own cock is getting a work out as it’s slicked with moisturizer and precum self is caught between his body and the leather of the massage table and gets stoked every time Rose rides him.

Being that he was so close to cuming twice before it doesn’t take long before Red Hood feels his body tightening, getting ready. He bites into the blanket under his head as he tries to pant around this pleasure to prolong the fuck but his body can’t be denied and he chews down hard on the blanket as he shouts his release into it. But Rose doesn’t stop. Actually she shifts position so that her left hand grips the massage table near his head while her left she places on Red Hood’s neck, holding him down as this new angle brings her cock in repeated contact with his prostate.

Red Hood’s eye’s fly open at this new development. At this angle Rose has a good bit of her weight pressing him into the table under them. That coupled with the pressure on his neck and being still fucked despite cuming feels like…like…he’s being overpowered by someone who takes what they want. Red Hood feels his whole body quake and he knows he’s making sounds, he just doesn’t care what and couldn’t stop if he tried. He’s become harder faster that he’s ever been before and in time the stroking of his trapped cock and the pounding in his ass push him straight over the edge as he screams while his cock pulses its release beneath him.

Rose continues to stroke her harnessed cock in Red Hood as he came, slowing and then stopping when he is done. She lays there, catching her own breath while smoothing down Red Hood’s hair. She whispers soothing encouragements in his ear, telling him that she understands and how good his is and how pleased she is with him. Slowly she disengages from his body. Rolling him over so that he’s all but sitting on the edge of the massage table Rose cleans Red Hood off using the wipes and towels in the room. When she is sure he’s alright with his pants up and everything, Rose walks off a few steps and places her right leg up on the seat of the companion chair in the room in order to remove the cock and harness she has on under her skirts.

Red Hood watches Rose as she walks away to the chair and hikes her leg up on it and it’s strangely one of the hottest things he’s seen in a long time. A woman with her hands cuddling her sex while holding on to the attached eight inch rubber cock that she just fucked you with. And her legs and thighs are big but really nice looking, especially with them up like that and wearing those heels,’ he thinks to himself.

Moving of their own volition, Red Hood’s legs take him over to Rose and lower him to his knees in front of her. There he lifts his hands up to help Rose out of the contraption that’s holding her rubber cock on, marveling at the smooth softness of her skin, salivating at the aroma of her arousal. When he releases the final catch allowing him to take the harness off, Rose sets her leg down off the chair, lifts up the front of her skirt before sitting back down in the chair and placing one leg up over the arm. Quirking a sultry smile at him, Rose taps her sex and sits back. Never being one to pass up an invitation to eat Red Hood eagerly bends to the task, licking away all the joy juice gathered there before delving into her folds. Rose smelled of spices and mint and tasted just as sweet as he licked his way up to her clit. It wasn’t long before he has her gasping and moaning, calling out,

“Red, yes Red, awww damn baby, more,”

and has her fingers laced in his hair while moving her great hips about with pleasure. Placing his hand under Rose’s other leg Red Hood lifts it up onto the chair’s other arm granting him greater access to her sex. He soon has both of Rose’s hands in his hair as she throws back her head moaning and panting as she cums. But he doesn’t stop, she didn’t. Sliding two fingers deep in her core Red Hood continues pleasuring Rose, licking and sucking, stroking his fingers in and out until,

“I’m…I’m cuming, I’m…YES Red, YES, YES, baby yessssssssss,”

Once Rose has cum down Red Hood sits back and cleans her off with one to the few remaining towels in the room before helping her place her feet back on the floor. Rose leans forward and pulls him into a hug, placing his head upon her breast. Cuddling him like this Rose thanks her Red, telling him how good he was and how good he made her feel. Red holds Rose back, burying his nose in her cleavage, inhaling her scent, accepting her words.

Finally he pulls back and getting up begins to tidy the room before going to get dressed. When he’s dressed Rose escorts him to the front door.

‘This will probably be the last time I see Rose, I mean after this would she even think of me or anything, right?,’ Red Hood thinks to himself as Rose gives him another deep hug at the door.

“Now, the next time you need to come over for something other than ink, call this number,” Rose instructs a surprised Red Hood while handing him a card with her personal contact information written on back. “When you come over please don’t wear your uniform, I try to keep what goes on here in the studio separate from what goes on in my home, if that’s alright with you?,” she asks.

“No, that’s perfect,” Red answers pocketing the card in his inner pocket and giving Rose a chaste kiss on the cheek before putting on his helmet and leaving.

Returning to the studio Rose gives the inking room a final wipe down with a disinfectant cloth before switching the security protocols from shop open to shop closed and turning off the lights. Just as she is about to shut them off in the Waiting Room she sees something dark but shiny looking over by the table where she and Red were talking earlier. Going over to investigate, Rose expects to find something he left behind like some keys or a lighter or maybe even a weapon (hasn’t been the first time that’s happened). Instead what she finds is another black rose, this one made of different colored metals, all intricately shaped and woven into the likeness of a black rose bud. Smiling she picks this one up to add to the one in her apartment wondering when she’d hear back from her Red.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Rose Morgan (OC)/Jason Todd (Red Hood)//Dick Grayson (Batman), Alfred Pennyworth, Stephanie Brown/Batgirl, Damien Wayne/Robin IV, Tim/Red Robin, Kon-El/Superboy & Krypto   
> Continuity: Roseverse Crossover AU  
> Ratings: R this chapter, NC-17 overall  
> Warnings: Violence, loud explosions, discussions of consensual SM activities   
> Word Count: 4,246  
> Summary: The plot thickens as family becomes involved, as well as loud explosions and general mayhem. Stressors are recognized and accommodations made ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my universes I picture Gotham and Metropolis as being twin cities on opposite sides of Delaware Bay, with Gotham City in New Jersey and Metropolis in Delaware. According to the Atlas of the DC Universe (which may no longer be canon after the events of Infinite Crisis) Metropolis is located on the south end of Delaware Bay near the modern town of Lewes, Delaware. The Atlas shows Gotham city as being on the other side of the bay, near Cape May, New Jersey. I use the Metropolis entry in Wikipedia for my reference which is different from the Gotham City entry, but it fits my purposes so much better.

Walking back into the kitchen carrying an armload of clean kitchen towels fresh from the laundry, Alfred noted that his young Master Dick is still sitting at the breakfast bar with a full plate of food before him. Sighing as he placed that plate on the table some 38 minutes ago Alfred fears that the pressures of wearing the cowl may be greater than even Master Dick anticipated.

While putting away the towels Alfred asks Dick,

“If you are finished with your culinary art project Sir, I can remove that plate from the table and mayhap replace it with something more suitable…finger paints perhaps?”

“What?” Dick asks finally looking up for the first time since he sat down. “Oh sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,’ he apologizes, “and now I have to go to Copenhagen on Wayne Pharmaceuticals business, luckily I can speak to a contact there while in the city…”

“I see,” Alfred responds, “If I may be so bold, young Sir, and speak freely,” he continues.

“Huh? Oh, of course Alfred, of course. You don’t have to ask to speak freely,” Dick assures.

“Thank you Sir,” Alfred replies while beginning to prepare Damien’s afterschool snack. “Master Dick, it took me years and years and years…and years of training Master Bruce for him to understand that there is a perfectly good remedy for problems that beset one to the point that they interfere with one’s ability to perform one’s daily schedule. That if one, when so troubled, would take the time to choose a confidant, someone cognizant with both the type and kind of problems common to those in your profession, and utilize that person as a sounding board…,” he lectures.

“Someone cognizant with the problems common in my profession,” Dick asks wryly?

“Yes, now cease being puerile,” Alfred continued. “The speaking aloud of one’s problems to a trusted confidant will accomplish two goals. It will one, allow the speaker to hear their problems spoken outside of their own mind, giving the speaker a greater prospective on the problem, mayhap increasing the speaker’s ability to provide a solution. It will also two, present the problem to the confident who may have a different perspective on the situation and may be able to interject valuable insight, also increasing the speaker’s ability to provide a solution to said problem,” Alfred continues while garnishing the sandwich, fruit and pastry plate he’d created for Damien.

After a short pause Alfred continued, “I fear that Master Bruce never actually learned this lesson, or never put it into practice until Master Clark came into his life. However, even then Master Bruce never truly utilized the skill as openly or actively as necessary, especially during those last days…” Alfred finished quietly while placing the snack plate in the refrigerator until needed.

Sighing Alfred turns his full attention on Dick, still sitting in front of a full and now cold plate of breakfast. “I truly hope that with your more open…spirit, that it will not take me as many years to teach you this same lesson as I am no longer quite as spry as I once was, nor quite as patient.”

Smiling and chuckling Dick gives in. “Okay, okay, subtle hint duly noted and yes you are quite cognizant with all of this stuff I’m going through. You did raise Bruce, and all of us,” Dick acquiesces. “You’ll make a perfect confidant Alfred, thank you.”

“That was neither subtle nor was it a hint and yes I am quite cognizant with everything you are going through,” Alfred corrects, “and yes I will be pleased to become your confidant.”

“Okay…okay, like I said, I have a lot on my mind. Like this case I’m working on, it’s crazy alright and the perpetrators are bloodthirsty bastards who are using terrorist tactics for some truly mundane and trite reasons. We had a lead in New York but that lead was shot out from under us,” Dick grates. “That’s why I’m not putting off this Copenhagen trip because I have a contact there that has information on the terror cells here. If this information pans out then we will have a good chance of shutting down the whole operation in no time.”

“So this case is what is keeping you awake all night, preventing you from eating or taking proper care of yourself,” Alfred asks”

“Yes…and no…not now anyways, not totally. What’s really bothering me, are the others,” Dick admits quietly.

“Others, which others,” Alfred asks?

“My brothers, all of them; I mean Damien hates me. He hates the ground I walk on and the air I breathe. This makes it so hard to train him, harder still to partner with him. Damien’s hatred prevents us from learning to trust one another as true partners must. I’m worried that this could cause one of us to get hurt, injured or killed while out there. If Tim were here I could ask him to work with Damien and asking Steph or Cassie to work with the misogynistic little…it just wouldn’t be good right now. I have to find some way to get through to him,” Dick sighs shaking his head.

“Then there is Tim. I, sometimes he’s more like Bruce than all of us,” Dick admits, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Brilliant, focused, obsessive, stubborn, dedicated, loyal, stubborn, in his own way loving, assertive, enigmatic…I did say stubborn didn’t I,” Dick asks?

“Yes Master Dick, twice at least,” Alfred answers smiling.

“I know I haven’t been there for him, for Tim, especially when he had all those deaths in his life, his folks, girlfriend, Kon…And now…at least he’s not trying to clone Bruce now that he’s…gone,” Dick admits again swallowing thickly.

Walking over to pour Dick a fresh cup of hot coffee Alfred states sadly, “That was a rather hard time here. I am not certain whether either Master Bruce or Master Timothy would have been open to any helpful intervention. They spurned any and all that was offered by others who cared for them.”

“But now he’s gone, off on some wild goose chase trying to find Bruce! He just can’t let go. I worry about him out there searching for G-d knows what. At least he has Kon and Krypto with him,” Dick sighs.

“Of the three, I trust Krypto’s good canine sense to keep them out of trouble,” quips Alfred.

“Yeah, let’s hear it for the dog,” Dick rejoins, then, becomes quiet, pensive. “But he needs to let Bruce go…and…” Dick sighs heavily.

“I detect that Masters Damien and Timothy are not all that trouble you, and you do have one other brother,” asserts Alfred while refreshing Dick’s cup of coffee, the only thing he’s touched of his breakfast.

“Thank you Alfred,” states Dick taking a huge sip of his coffee. “And it’s…No…Yes…Damn! Little-Wing,” Dick sighs tiredly running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I just don’t understand him, I guess I never did and now it’s worse. When he came back to us, and we were sure that it was Jason and not Clayface again, he was so bitter and angry, he was mad in the classical sense,” Dick starts.

“That is an apt description of Master Jason on his return. There is no doubt that that Talia woman has something to do with his temperament on his return,” Alfred adds.

“Jay wasn’t all that straight to begin with and now…she, Talia al Ghul, has every thing to do with Jason being mad and becoming a total homicidal maniac. With how he acted when he became Nightwing and when he stabbed Tim and what he did while…right after…when we were trying to replace…create, no recreate Batman…” Dick sighs deeply. “But he’s been, well not calming down exactly, but his body count has markedly decreased. Sometimes he even volunteers to work with us, sniping and snarling the entire time but in his own way he tries.” Dick remarks.

“But he’s becoming even more unstable recently. Every so often Jason disappears, just takes off for New York. I lose his trail when he gets in the city but when he returns he has these periods of calmness, of almost being approachable. But then he gradually devolves back into his old self. And there is no real pattern to this behavior, except that this calm happens following his trips to New York.”

“Mayhaps what ever devilment Miss al Ghul perpetrated on Master Jason is wearing off,” Alfred offers.

“Maybe, and I worry about that too, what if with it wearing off his life wears off?” again Dick sighs mightily. “What’s happening in New York! Why is he going there? Is it drugs or something worse? I’m so ffff, err very worried about him,” Dick states…worriedly.

“Could he be working on his own case in New York,” Alfred asks?

“That’s a possibility, but if so it’s not connected to anything I know he’s been working on recently. And he has this new tattoo; it’s a beautiful and haunting scene of a broken BatSignal in the sky over Gotham. I’m still trying to pin down the artist, maybe he goes up there to New York to have work done on that tattoo and maybe others. He’s become very secretive about his body lately. He was never like that before,” Dick adds.

“Perhaps he is having a physical or romantic assignation with someone living in New York?” Alfred asks.

Alfred almost missed the sudden look of anguish that flashes across Dick’s face when considering this possibility as it arrives and disappears so quickly.

If that’s, all it is then I’m happy for him, as long as, you know, he’s in a good, thing and all. I don’t want anything to happen to him but I, oh I don’t know what I want. But I know that I miss having my brothers in my life…especially the ones who are here…but not here, do you know what I mean?” a very frustrated Dick asks Alfred.

“Indeed I do. It could be that to best reach your brothers, especially the ones you have here with you, is to change your approach with them. The clinical definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results. Mayhaps in order to garner different results you need to do something different,” Alfred suggests. “And while I cannot always vouch for the sanity of the others, I do believe that you are not the…insane, as it were, Robin of the batch,” he continues. “So as the sane member of the Brotherhood of Robins you will eat a hot meal before flying off to Copenhagen will you not?” Alfred asks. “And while in Copenhagen you will find a new manner in which to speak with Master Timothy, he is your contact there is he not?” Alfred states.

“How did…how did you know I was meeting with Tim in Copenhagen?” asks Dick.

“Having worked with the Greatest Detectives in the World, I do believe that I have some skill in keeping track of my boys,” Alfred asserts. “As I was saying, you will speak with Master Timothy in such a manner as to not alienate him and on your return you will find a new manner of interaction with both Masters Jason and Damien to reach an accord them as well. I have faith in you Master Dick; I know you can do this.” Alfred assures while replacing Dick’s cold and inedible breakfast with a fresh hot plate of food.

“When did…how…but we were just talking…Alfred, you are a culinary miracle worker,” Dick stammers while tucking into what is now his brunch. “And you give very good insight too.”

“Yes, as I said, I am very cognizant to the problems that behest the Masters of this House.”

 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

 

On the last leg of his patrol Jason spots the new Batman and his demon-spawn Robin waiting in the shadows on the roof of the Revealed Word Ministries Gotham Mission House. Dropping down on the rooftop the Red Hood joins the not-so-dynamic duo in the shadows of the belfry. He hasn’t seen or heard from Big-Bird since the New York shit went down, and since Dick saw is new tattoo.

“What, slumming down here in the Narrows now, the rest of Gotham not enough for you that you have to come down here?” Jason asks acerbically.

“We have more information on the Equalizers. I’ve conferred with a source in Copenhagen,” Batman starts.

“What’s Red Robin doing in Copenhagen?” smirks the Red Hood.

Ignoring the snarking Batman continues. “Red Robin and Superboy have connected the New York terror cell with several in Europe during their own investigation of Bruce’s…disappearance. Not only that, but they have connected them with cells in Gotham City, San Francisco, Chicago, Toronto, and Dallas, all backed by a larger agency that has ties to an established European Terror Cell Organization. I’ve alerted the Titians, the JLA and Alpha Flight in Canada. That leaves the Gotham cell for us to take out. You want in?” Batman asks? Even wearing the helmet, Batman can tell that Red Hood is grinning his ass off.

“Hell Yeah! I want in.”

 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 

Rose pauses while sweeping up her inking station after her latest client and escort have left; they were quite satisfied with the ink she applied.

“Damn, I didn’t think that that thing on the Donald’s head could shed this much. I’ve got hair everywhere; well I think its hair…” Rose mutters aloud. “And he wasn’t even the one getting the tattoo, his new girl was. I must say that getting Rich Uncle Pennybags inked as a ‘tramp stamp’ is a bold move on her part especially with how fast the Donald goes through the women in his life,” Rose chuckles to herself.

While she’s cleaning Rose reflects on her current relationship of sorts. They seem to have moved into some sort of routine, and by routine she doesn’t mean that they have regularly scheduled dates or anything. That’s totally not doable with this bunch. Hell, she knows this from previous experience.

‘And what’s this damn thing I have with vigilantes?’ Rose muses while angrily attacking the dust bunnies under the massage tables. ‘The last time I was in a relationship with one of them it didn’t really end bad it just ended…cause of his work...and for all of his fierce reputation Frank was an amazingly gentle and through lover,’ Rose remembers. Sighing, she turns to look at the small black and white candle sitting in her Memorial Alcove in the Waiting Room and smiles a sad smile.

Pondering on who she’s involved with now, Rose understands that theirs is not a classic girlfriend/boyfriend thing. No, what they have not about romance; theirs is a Domme/sub relationship but with true affection between them. However, it’s relationship where they get together only whenever Red seems to have both the time and some sort of stressor he needed a respite from. Oh, Rose can contact Red to check and see that he’s alright and they do talk on the phone on occasion, but because of the nature of his work getting together is based on his need. Sucks, but this is what you get getting involved with the Costumed Community, as Rose calls it to herself.

The greatest stressor Rose knows of exists in Red’s personal life. She understands that there is someone else who really holds Red’s heart. She’s not sure what is going on with them but Rose can see how this situation often weighs so very heavy on Red’s heart. During those times when he comes to her burdened by this weight their sessions will begin with a long, hard, cathartic, over-the-knee spanking. She found this need the night she smacked him but good on the ass to drag his attention back into the flogging she was administering. The answering shiver that traveled all through his body clued Rose into Red’s need. The release Red gets from these spankings leave him open and ready for what else she had planed for him while he’s with her.

Another stressor Rose knows of is that just being the Red Hood weighs heavy on Red’s heart at times as well, especially when innocents are hurt or when a really bad guy escapes justice. On the days when he comes to her following something like this, especially when innocent bystanders or worse, children, come to harm nothing but a full out drag-me-kicking-and-screaming-into- endorphin-induced-subspace scene will suffice. These are hard work scenes where Rose calls on many of her Domme skills to work Red’s body, flooding him with sensations both strong and sensual, until he spirals off on his own endorphins that sail him far, far, far, off into subspace. There, what has happened and what is yet to occur, don’t matter. You are firmly nestled in your body, firmly in the now, and nothing else matters for a while.

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^

After cleaning up her inking station and changing rooms, Rose reaches for the remote in order to turn off the flat screen television. She’d placed one in the room for those clients who take ink better with distractions and occasionally to keep companions occupied. The Donald insisted that the set stay tuned to CNN so that he could stay connected to the world during the session. Just as she is about to cut the set off the commentator begins announcing a late breaking story.

“This now from Gotham City, New Jersey; A home grown terror cell with supposed contacts with the Fiduciary Redistribution Revolution, an European financial terror organization that cropped up following the 2008 G-8 Summit, had it’s latest terror campaign thwarted by none other than the Batman and Robin as well as several other costumed allies. Seen here via a live video feed from the Channel 12 in the City ABC affiliate helicopter, the Dynamic Duo are being assisted by Superboy, Krypto, Red Robin and Red Hood…”

Sitting down heavily in the companion chair as if her strings had been cut, Rose watches the broadcast as the video shows Batman and Robin engaging in fierce hand to hand combat with a group of armed men in black and grey urban warfare military fatigues. They seem to be trying to Mouse-Hole Batman and Robin to prevent the two from using their famous team work. Oh damn, the things she learned from Frank. Sometimes ignorance is bliss.

Red Hood and Red Robin were working together to take out some crazed maniac holed up in an alleyway wielding what looks like a M203 grenade launcher mounted on a Beretta AR-70/90 machine gun, one of Frank’s favorites for accuracy and dependability. Dammit Frank, did I really need to know this? From the hole in the side of the warehouse Superboy and his dog seemed to have crashed into the warehouse and were causing some mad havoc inside.

‘Wow, this is so damn strange to be watching so many clients actively working together in one place,’ thinks Rose. ‘Well, maybe,’ she amends. ‘That Batman looks…off.’

Suddenly, there is a loud explosion and the video feed careens about, swinging about madly, sickenly, as the helicopter is tossed about savagely by the shockwave. When the pilot finally regains control of his craft, returning to the scene of the explosion all that was left of a four story pre-war warehouse is a smoking gaping hole in the ground surrounded by charred bits of building…and charred bits of people.

 

“Oh my G-d, did you see that? Remember, these are live video feeds from the battle between Batman and his allies and the Fiduciary Redistribution Revolution terror cell in Gotham City,” comments the female reporter.  
“Weren’t some of Batman’s allies also known vigilantes?” asks the male reporter.  
“This just goes to show that terrorism can make patriots of us all,” the female answers back.

Rose can no longer hear the commentator’s inane banter as she walks right up on top of her television, searching the picture for any signs of the Heroes. Rocking back and forth on her heels while choking the life out of her broom, Rose begins whispering prayers for the well-being of Red, his team-mates, and for all the people involved. Just when she had begun to list the various rescue teams present on the scene in prayer, the video feed focuses on something moving near the burning hole in the ground. It looks like a snake, no it’s a rope with some sort of hook on the end, flying out of the hole, catching a hold on to some rubble on the ground around the site. Slowly, the figure of the Batman emerges from the smoke and ruins carrying a smaller person wearing a black, purple and gold bat-styled costume and long blond hair flowing out from under the cowl. Once he has her settled with Gotham fire and rescue on route to care for her, Rose watches as Batman launched himself back down into the smoking mess followed quickly by Superboy and Krypto who, of course because they are ‘Supers’, survived the explosion.

After tense moments where the Gotham Fire and Rescue units get themselves ready to follow the heroes down in the charred remains of the warehouse Superboy flies out of the now smoking crater carrying both Robin and Red Robin in his arms. Batman emerges next climbing out of the hole via grapple line with Red Hood thrown over his shoulder to be helped the rest of the way out by a Fire and Rescue unit. Lastly Krypto flies out dragging a bundle of men in combat fatigues all tied so that the Super Canine can safely haul them over to the police staging area dropping them off like a load of dirty laundry.

The cameraman in the helicopter set his camera to film at a wide angle to capture as much of the action occurring on the ground as possible. He gets video of the rescue of Batman and his allies as well as the Gotham Fire and Rescue teams and the GCPD working the scene. All this was fine and dandy, but Rose had her nose all but pressed against her television set just watching Batman and Red Hood.

It appears that Batman was blocking everyone’s view of Red with both his body and voluminous cape. Rose is fairly bouncing on her toes wondering what the hell was going on when she saw Red Robin run over to the pair caring bottles of water and a portable oxygen tank. Red must have his helmet off to cope with breathing in either smoke or dust or something, and Batman’s protecting his identity. After several minuets Red Robin and Batman both walk back allowing Red to stand on his own.

Now that the action has died down Rose watches Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood, Superboy, who Rose assumes is Batgirl and even Krypto gather together to discuss something. By now the CNN commentators are rehashing what little they know about the fight and explosion. Rose knows that they will just continue to repeat the action footage while dithering on, exploiting from what few actual facts they have until more were made available.

Turning this set off and shutting down the studio for a while, Rose walked into her apartment and turned on her television there. She tuned it onto CNN but kept the volume low for now. Walking over to where she kept her potent potables, Rose poured herself a glass of Jack Daniels Kentucky Bourbon, neat, and downed the thing in one shot. Sighing, Rose closed her eyes as the burn mellowed out to warmth before making a glass of Jack and Coke with ice to sip in a more reasonable fashion. Picking up her cordless Rose goes to sit on the sofa to keep an eye on the television while she makes a phone call to one of her best friends. On the second ring the phone is answered on the other end with,

“Thank you for contacting Her Majesty’s Treasure’s, Lady Sabyra speaking, how may I help you?”

“Hey Lady Sabyra,” answers Rose. It’s BlackRose and I was wondering, did you get in that new shipment of floggers yet? You did, great ‘cause I need a matched pair that has more sting than thud and some new paddles and…” Rose informs her friend and owner of her own SM and Sex Toy store.

Once Rose finished placing her large order of new SM equipment with Lady Sabyra, she walks around her apartment gathering up the laundry especially all her big fluffy blankets. Rose placed the blankets in the washer cleaning them in Tide Free and placing her secret weapon in the softener compartment, Downy Orchard Allure. Rose had noticed that her Red seemed to get off on their scent and has been burrowing himself in her fluffy exotically scented blankets while they go at it ever since they had their first mini-session in the studio. Rose not only washed the blankets but her bed linen, cleaned the rest of her apartment and began planning out their next scene, all while keeping an ear on the television in case something new occurs. Rose wanted to get everything ready because she knows that with just what she saw on CNN, she’ll be hearing from Red sooner than later, and he will be very stressed. And like any good Domme worth her restraints and floggers, Rose will be ready to take care of his stress.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Rose Morgan (OC)/Jason Todd (Red Hood)//Dick Grayson (Batman), with mentions of Alfred Pennyworth, Damien Wayne/Robin IV, Tim/Red Robin, Babs Gordon/Oracle, Kon-El/Superboy & Krypto   
> Continuity: Roseverse Crossover AU  
> Ratings: R for language   
> Warnings: discussions of consensual SM activities   
> Word Count: 3,525  
> Summary: Jason and the others had to go to Europe to take care of the terrorist. Now they are home at last, but the problems at home still exist. Jason seeks solace and Dick seeks answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my universes I picture Gotham and Metropolis as being twin cities on opposite sides of Delaware Bay, with Gotham City in New Jersey and Metropolis in Delaware. I use the Metropolis entry in Wikipedia for my reference which is different from the Gotham City entry, but it fits my purposes so much better.

Rose didn’t expect to hear from the Red Hood immediately following the explosion in Gotham but,

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 45min EST  
R-  
Am ok   
will c u l8r  
RH

RH  
Thank G-d U R ok. C U l8r.  
R

And although they did have a weekend planned, and despite what he texted, Rose didn’t expect to see him any time soon. Especially with the talk on all the news channels about the terror cell in Gotham being connected with some big terror organization in Europe. She understood that whatever had happened today would probably require more time and investigation.

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 48hrs 52min EST  
R  
Gotta go away 4 awhile   
will call or txt u l8r  
RH

RH  
OK B Safe  
C U when U get back  
R

Rose just couldn’t predict that whatever Reed Hood, Batman and the others were involved in would take so long.

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 6days 03hours 40min EST  
R  
Think GC or NYC R cold? I’m freezing my ass off here!  
RH

RH  
Take care o my ass boy! Expect it back n 1 piece LOL   
R

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 2weeks 2days 03hours 02min EST  
R  
Permission to kill Robin   
No 1 will miss the demon spawn   
Just 1 little push off roof?  
RH

RH  
Permission Denied, lol  
Behave  
R

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 3weeks 1day 03hours 01min EST  
R  
Shit shit shit shit   
Stupid Buttman   
Asshole   
His days R #ed  
Shit fuck shit shit fuck  
RH

RH  
I C U R very stressed, am sorry, *rubs back*   
But  
*R washing RH mouth out w/ soap*  
Behave or no biscuits  
R

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 4weeks 03 hours 12min EST  
R  
Fuck it, fleas, I got fleas  
Im cold tired wet dirty & now fleas  
Some one is going to die 2nite  
RH

RH  
I kno u r cold tired wet dirty w/ fleas-ick  
But if u kill & go 2 jail over there  
I cant work u out here  
Close ur eyes, think of our last work out  
Keep it close 2 u I will b close 2 u  
R

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 5weeks 4days 02hours 47min EST  
R  
1, 2, 4, 8, 12, 82, fuck counting. I’m gonna to kill something   
Probably the bat or the spawn or that damn dog  
NOW  
RH

RH  
*R hugs RH*  
Don’t count, just breath, in out in out  
Relax, relate, release, focus on goal  
Better now? Good  
*R smacking RH on ass HARD*  
Don’t make me txt this again BEHAVE  
R

Txt message @ Terror Attack + 6weeks 1 day 04hours 00min EST  
R  
Coming home soon  
Exhausted, hurt  
Will call u soon as I can  
RH

RH  
I understand but R U OK?   
Glad u r coming home, missed u  
Call me when u r ready, I’m here  
R

 

^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

 

Terror Attack + 8weeks 2 days 02hours 00min EST  
Jason wonders out the balcony doors off the library to take a smoke out in the garden and make his phone call. He’s not sure why he stayed at the mansion when they got back to Gotham, but he’s ready to leave it now. Thinking back on what’s happened recently Jason almost wishes he has something stronger than nicotine to work with tonight…but he knows the lie of drugs.

Eight weeks, it’s been eight weeks since the explosion in Gotham set off by the Equalizers. Because of those dickwipes, he and the others spent their first six weeks on a hellacious tour of the worst locations of Europe, some of them so bad that they made the Narrows look like a five star vacation resort. It took them six weeks of investigations, stake-outs, and follow-ups. Of skulking around fetid back alleys, freezing on rooftops, hiding out in hotels that seriously needed to be flushed out with straight bleach before allowing even the rats to return. It took them six long weeks of carefully finding each and every piece of information and putting them together in a way that made sense, before going out and kicking some serious terrorist ass in a spectacular orgy of pain. And after having to spend so much damn time stuck with the others, Jason found out that he was so stoked to cut loose that it felt fucking felt great!

Sighing as he lights another cigarette Jason remembers spending way too much time stuck with the other Robins; Dickie their Big -Bird, Timmy the Baby-Bird, and newest to the pack, Damien the Demon Spawn. They even had Kon the Super-Brat and his dog Krypto along just to round things out. He was fucking stuck working with them, talking to them, listening to them blah-blah-blah on and on. Stuck eating with them, sleeping in the same rooms, sometimes in the same beds with them and hell that one time he’d been stuck showering with them. Luckily he got to buddy up with Dick so he didn’t have to hide his tattoo. If it weren’t for the occasional text message out to the real world Jason knows that it would have gotten real ugly, real fast. Even with, during that last push when he went all out, not all the hurt fell on the terrorist.

The worst of it was that it had also been six fucking weeks of the Horney Sidekick Society at its finest; you could have cut all the sexual tension between them with a plastic knife. Felt like he’d been trapped in a bad piece of that slash tripe he finds online. Like the one where they gay’ed up every member of the JLA, well more that usual anyway, and had Batman doing both the Flash and the Green Lantern. Yeah right, Jason snorts, like Bruce could put up with Wally’s mouth long enough to fuck him. Even though in that story the writer had Wally’s mouth too busy to do much talking…a speedy power blowjob….naaaaah it’d never happen.

The funny thing about all that is that the idea of getting busy with all the others is not a bad idea…or one that’s never crossed his mind…like almost every other night while there. Actually, the idea of getting busy with everyone, except the dog…or the demon brat, crosses Jason’s mind with alarming frequency. Hell, if the others hadn’t been so damn stuck on themselves he would’a locked the Demon and the dog in a closet and started an orgy.

Now that he’s home its taken two weeks of being stitched up, taped down, patched over and wrapped tight before feeling well enough to consider going home, or making this call. Taking out his Stark Industries Metaphone, with hardened shielding and titanium casing, Jason twirls it idly in his hands while he finishes this last smoke and composing what he’s going to say to Rose when Jason notices he has company. He stills as Dick walks out of the library behind him.

“Hey, Little Wing,” Dick calls softly.

“Hey yourself, Big Bird,” Jason answers turning to face the elder Robin.

“You’re restless, must be feeling better,” states Dick.

“Yeah, Alfred cleared me today. I’ll be leaving in the morning,” Jason announces.

“Not before breakfast?” Dick asks.

“And miss Alfred’s world famous omelets? Never, but right after, yeah, I’ll be heading out,” Jason states with a small smile.

“Okay, that’s good. You know, it was good, working with you and the others, like some kinda team or something, we worked well together,” Dick states shifting his stance so often that Jason gave him a second look.

Frowning at where he sees this going Jason asserts “Well yeah. Except for the Kryptonians, we were all trained by his Royal Grimness. Being able to…anticipate each other’s neurosis isn’t such a jump in logic. I know just how fucked up you are, you think you know how fucked up I am,” Jason snarks, “Tim is just a shorter thinner version of Bruce with a wicked sense of humor or something, and well the Demon is the official Spawn, we know who made him.” Jason counts his last points off on the fingers of one hand. “Familiarity, contempt, breeding, it’s all there. Why wouldn’t we know how to work around our collective kinks and shit,” Jason snarls. “I’m just amazed that Kon and Krypto have such a large tolerance for our special brand of bullshit!”

“Maybe all the more reason why we should work together, who knows or will put up with us…but us?” Dick asks, “and Kryptonians,” he adds.

“Oh please Dickie, what, you wanna be that much like Bruce? You wanna create your own version of the World’s Finest or try to create another crazy ass hero team too? Well I think Steph and Kara have the lock on the World’s Finest gig and didn’t the fiasco that was the Outsiders clue you into what kind of colossal cluster fuck that can be?” Jason exclaims.

“Eloquent as always Jason!” Dick states wryly. “Don’t you even want to try? Give it a chance maybe? We could do some good together like we did in Europe. I mean, I know we have to work on our kinks and shit but like you said, we were all trained by Bruce so…”

“What…WHAT? If we work together it’s only going to end up with us killing each other. You know it’s the truth. Shit, think back on what happened in Europe. We argued all the fucking time. You’re lucky I didn’t push one of you off one of the rooftops we ran around over there or that Damien didn’t stab one of us in the back. Fuck, it’s a miracle Tim didn’t smother any of us in our sleep,” Jason snarls while pacing around the garden.

“But we didn’t, so maybe…maybe this means we can at least work together some of the time. Come on, you know it was a blast watching Tim and Damien take down that whole goon squad by themselves,” Dick reminds Jason smiling.

“They did look like two Jack Russell terriers taking out a pack of rabid wolves,” Jason chuckled tiredly, almost sadly.

“Somehow I don’t think the boys will appreciate being referred to as small friendly dogs,” Dick remarks dryly.

“Hell, at least I didn’t call them Paris Hilton Purse Rats,” Jason starts trying to remember the name of the highly offensive and parasitic little noise makers that were the rage among the beautiful people for a while. “But no, us being a team is not a good idea,” Jason says with finality.

Leaning against the frame of the balcony doors Dick sighs as a fragile hope is burst, again. “Look, whether or not we ever work together again, I want you to know, that, this…” Sighing harder and scrubbing his face in frustration. Why does Jay make it so hard all the time? Dick wonders.

“Look, what I’m trying to say here is that you don’t have to leave. No one’s kicking you out. If you want…or need…there’s always a place for you here. You’ll always have a home here.” Dick states simply. “I just wanted you to know…” He finishes before turning to walk back inside.

Jason watches Dick walk back inside the Mansion before releasing the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Why does Dick make shit so damn hard? Why can’t he just let go and get mad, fight back. Why do I have to work so hard just to get him to…

Blowing hard to clear his head, Jason looks hard at the doorway Dick just walked through and shakes his head. Walking further out into the garden Jason opens his cell phone and dials.

 

^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^

 

Phone call @ Terror Attack + 8weeks 2 days 03hours 01min EST  
Only because she is used to receiving phone calls at strange times is Rose Morgan even able to find her cell phone let alone acknowledge that yes, it’s singing its happy little song at 3:01 in the morning.

Only because she has been receiving semi-regular phone calls early morning from the Red Hood, is Rose able to climb up out of her nice warm blankets and wake up in order to answer this call.

“Good morning Red, you’re back in the US?” Rose asked with her voice husky with recent sleep.

“Morning Rose, yeah, I’m home now,” Jason responded.

“Everything work out or do you have more to do?” Rose asked.

“No, things are fine now. We finished our business, criminals found, asses kicked, survivors jailed,” Jason quipped with a smile.

“That’s great, now, you said you were hurt, are you okay? How is your ink?” Rose asked.

“I’m okay, all patched up now and everything, but my ink took some hits,” Jason stated quietly.

“How bad is the damage?” Rose asks sitting up in bed.

Jason sighs deeply before replying “It’s bad, very bad.”

“Tell me where?” Rose commands.

“The, the Signal is all messed up,” Jason complies while wrapping his free arm around himself.

“The Signal?” Rose verifies.

“Yeah, and some of the gargoyles are damaged too,” he adds.

“I thought you said everything came out okay?” Rose asks concerned.

“Yes, I did, but it was touch and go for a while, so I need work on the gargoyles,” Jason answers.

“Alright, now what about the signal light, is it intact?” Rose asks.

“Yes, actually it’s good, it’s real good,” Jason asserts. “Rose” he now asks quietly. “I, I have this weekend free. Can you do the work this weekend?”

He waits with strained patience while Rose checks her schedule. It’s very rare that Rose is not able to work him in due to clients she’s not able to reschedule, but it happens. Oh, he’ll cope but it will be tough right now after all he’s been through and with whom he just spent so much time.

“Prepare yourself for me carefully, as I will be available Friday evening beginning at seven. I do have an early morning appointment on Saturday that I can’t change but trust me, you’re going to need Saturday morning to recover from Friday night,” Rose answers.

Jason releases a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in order to reply. “Yes Ma’am, I’ll be there, prepared for you, this Friday evening at seven. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you on Friday Red and…I am very happy to have you back in one piece, good night.”

Closing her cell phone, Rose snuggles back down in her warm blanket whose Dark Orchid scent she now only associates with her Red. Rose whispers a prayer of thanks that he’s home safe now as she drifts off to sleep with thoughts of hot and reddened ass cheeks dancing in her head.

Closing his cell phone Jason lights up a third cigarette and walks around the garden for a while longer. Four days, four days until Friday, he has a lot to do and it will totally fill the next four days…he hopes.

“This is going to be a long ass week,” Jason mutters as he stomps out his last smoke for the night.

 

^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

 

Program Initiation @ Terror Attack + 8weeks 2 days 02hours 47min EST  
After leaving Jay scowling and smoking out in the garden, Dick heads down to the Bunker. No one talked much about why he spent so much money building this new BatQuarters. Especially since they all thought the Batcave was creepy and haunted while Bruce was alive, now that he was dead the Cave has become positively unearthly. Even the bats noticed it and flew with one eye looking back over their furry little shoulders.

Once inside, Dick twisted his lips into a wry smile. He knew that somewhere in the afterworld Bruce was pumping his fist in the air and high fiving the spirit of paranoia while watching Dick initiate the program he and Oracle created. And Dick has a perfectly reasonable rational for the development of this particular program…reasonable if you’re the Batman.

Stark’s company states that it only sells it’s high tech, electronically shielded, impossible to trace cell phones to known heroes, and members of the BatClan. They said that the phones have numerous electronic and bioneumetric safe guards to keep them from being used by anyone other than the preprogrammed authorized users, thus keeping them out of the hands of criminals. But what is to prevent someone with the phone, who was once a hero, from becoming a villain?

Dick knows from personal experience that there is a very thin line between the two and it doesn’t take much to push one over into the other. Being able to have a means of tracing calls placed on these phones may mean the difference between stopping the next batch of terrorist and watching them blow up another city. At least that’s what he told Babs when he approached her with the idea.

Together they developed this inelegant piece of programming that tags itself on the end of the call signal, follows it to it’s destination like so much signal junk then sends back a locator beacon. All you need is the originator phone’s electronic signature, which he snagged from Jason’s phone while they were talking out in the garden. Now all he needs to do is wait for his Jay-Bird to make his call, track the signal to its destination, and find out what Jay-Bird is doing in New York City…and with whom.

 

^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&

 

The week was not as long as Jason feared, partly because he has his own ‘rituals’ he goes through before seeing Rose.

 

Terror Attack + 8weeks 2days 10hours 40min EST   
Leaving the Mansion that Monday morning Jason opened up the throttle on his customized black Hayabusa, roaring through the light morning traffic in Castle Hill as he raced down from the land of the rich and infamous to the realm of the poor and destitute. Once home and having received report from the Birds of Prey on his territory, the Red Hood proceeded to engage in much ass kicking and name taking all around to let ‘em know that the ‘boy’ was back in town.

Terror Attack + 8weeks 4days 10hours 03min EST   
On Wednesday Jason begins lightening up on the amount of meat protein he ate. Rose doesn’t ask for this but it’s his way of preparing himself, of making his body ready for all the demands Rose will place on him all weekend long. Intense demands that he looks forward too, every damn moment of it.

Terror Attack + 8weeks 5days 01hours 03min EST   
On Thursday Jason stops jerking off.

Terror Attack + 8weeks 6days 08hours 37min EST   
On Friday Jason woke up early, washed like usual then went down to see his barber. Got a shave, a haircut and a hot tip on an incoming arms deal due into Gotham next week. Not bad for a light morning. Later that afternoon Jason returned home and packed his weekend bag, including his gift for Rose and his uniform. He then took another shower, a longer one this time, in order to follow Countess BlackRose’s protocols. Jason washed each and every part of his body so that he was scrupulously clean with the almond oil soap she required he use. Next, he washed and conditioned his hair in the jojoba oil shampoo and conditioner she required he use as well.

After his shower Jason applied the Nivea for Men skin conditioner the Countess required he use weeks ago when they first started this. Slowly smoothing it over his skin Jason thought of all the things the Countess has done to him. The scores left in the wake of her nails as she raked them across his skin, the welts laid across his back after she flogged him, how his nipples swelled and became so damn tender when she snapped clips and clothes pins on them. Running his hands over his taught stomach he can almost see the sharp little whelps left by her popping him with either rubber bands or bamboo skewers. Running his hands down his ass he remembers the welts from her caning and paddling it raw. Jason remembers how the Countess loves to strap on her harness and dildo then riding his ass like a show pony. Marked, Rose, no the Countess marked him, scored him, welted him, used him, broke him…then allowed him the time to put himself back together again. Just thinking of the time spent under the Countess brought on a strange friction of excitement and calm.

Terror Attack + 8weeks 4days 14hours 47min EST   
Jason places a call to Oracle letting her know that he’ll be off the radar this weekend.

“Yeah, after the last eight plus weeks I need to cut loose for a few days,” he explains.

“Just don’t break the Big Apple this weekend Jay,” Babs laughs, “have fun, Oracle out.”

Terror Attack + 8weeks 4days 15hours 00min EST   
Jason mounts his black ‘busa and takes off for the three hour ride to the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood in New York where Rose Morgan a.k.a. the Countess BlackRose has her home.   
He can hardy wait to get there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Rose Morgan (OC)/Jason Todd (Red Hood)//Dick Grayson (Batman), Tim Drake-Wayne (Red Robin), with mentions of Damien Wayne (Robin)  
> Continuity: Roseverse Crossover AU  
> Ratings: NC-17  
> Warnings: Explicit Het sex, desires for M/M sex, SM and Bondage  
> Word Count: 6,266  
> Summary: When he finally has the time Jason addresses his recent stresses and problems in a uniquely Jason manner. Dick handles his problems just like a ‘Bat’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my universes I picture Gotham and Metropolis as being twin cities on opposite sides of Delaware Bay, with Gotham City in New Jersey and Metropolis in Delaware. I use the Metropolis entry in Wikipedia for my reference which is different from the Gotham City entry, but it fits my purposes so much better.

Monday 7:45am Wayne Manor, Gotham City, New Jersey  
Using the skills honed under the tutelage of Bruce, the Progenitor Bat, Dick eased into Jason’s room while his brother showered. Timing his intrusion so that his movements coincided with Jason washing his hair Dick slipped several bugs into Jason’s clothing including his leather jacket.

Dick planted several bugs knowing that his Little Wing was expecting them and skilled enough to find most if not all the low tech ones. Finding these bugs should satisfy Jason’s Bat nurtured paranoia hopefully leaving Dick’s high tech bugs secure. Dick called his latest creation the inertia bug because it remained inert emitting not an erg of energy until it reached its pre-programmed GPS coordinates. And the pre-programmed coordinates for these two were New York City in general and the two second floor apartments in a building in Brooklyn Heights, New York belonging to one Rose Elaine Morgan specifically.

Later that morning in the Bunker, Dick watched Jason leave the grounds to return to Gotham City’s Narrows via the Manor’s security cameras. Reaching out Dick picked up the tray of cookies Alfred had left for him earlier and handed it over to Tim as he settled into the chair to Dick’s right.

“Thanks for coming back and taking care of them while I follow up on this case up in New York,” he states.

Tim responds with a nod and one of his rare unguarded gazes.

“Look, I know that you and Damien don’t really get along but I can’t take him with me on this. He’s too young, he wouldn’t understand…”

“Dick,” Tim calls softly. “I understand. I know that you’re worried about Jason. I know that until you know for yourself what he’s up to in New York you won’t rest.”

Moving to kneel at Tim’s side Dick responds wryly, “You know I’d do the same for you, more since you were never really batshit in the first place.”

“What?...oh please, I have a PhD. in stalking,” Tim answers with a small smile. “Go find out what’s happening to Jason, Damien and Gotham will be seen to until you return,” Tim reassured.

&&&&&&&

Friday 6:46pm 110 Montague Street, Brooklyn Heights, New York  
Parking his tricked out Hayabusa in the back ally behind Rose’s apartment Jason took a few minutes to have his last smoke before he had to go smoke-free for the next twenty hours or so. Rose does not allow smoking in her apartment or studio. Now that he’d become a frequent visitor Rose gave him the rear door entrance code so he can come and go discretely, not having walk around the block to be buzzed in. Entering the building Jason pops a Smoker’s Friend breath mint into his mouth as he starts up the stairs.

The wait while standing in front of Rose’s door always filled Jason’s belly with a host of hostile flying objects causing feelings of anxiety and calmness, nervousness and happiness, but most of all making him hard as a fucking rock!

“Good evening Red, come on in,” Rose beckoned as she opened the door.

Walking in Jason is surprised to find himself caught up in a tight hug and hearing Rose whispering thanks to God for bringing him home safe.

Pulling back Rose grabs Red’s chin to look him directly in the eye to see his level need. Finding her answer Rose moves in close, backing Red up against the wall behind him before shoving her thigh high and tight up against his sex. Holding his gaze Rose waited, and then smiled as her Red closed his eyes as he pressed himself down onto her thigh.

Removing her thigh Rose instructed Red to finish his preparations then wait for her in her bedroom, on his knees. While Red is in the bathroom making his body ready for her not so tender ministrations, Rose walked back into her living room to finish her glass of Chardonnay.

&&&&&&&

Dick reached his lower Manhattan safe house a little after eight that night. According to his calculations Jason should have arrived thirty minutes ago so he should be engaged in…whatever by now. Unfortunately Dick’s ‘inert bug’ is not registering or sending any new information. The last thing he received from it were Jason’s travel route through New York City into Brooklyn. He must be with this Rose Morgan.

A part of Dick simply hoped that Jay’s found someone to be with, someone to… Another part of him hoped that he’s just working on a case that Jay’s kept under tight security. Yet another part of Dick expected Jay to be caught up in something he knows that the rest of the family will disapprove of which is why he’s kept it such a secret. Whatever his Little Wing is up to Dick knows that he will get to the bottom of it this weekend.

Dressing himself in his Nightwing uniform for the first time in over a year felt liberating. Nightwing was not responsible for Gotham City, he wasn’t responsible for New York City, hell he wasn’t responsible for any city, all he was responsible for was the well-being of his family. Which is a heavy enough load all on its own.

Hopping on the back of his Buell 1125CR motorcycle Nightwing rode through the safe house’s underground garage that connected to an unused portion of the New York City subway system. From there he took a ramp that led to an alley between a Chinese grocery and an Asian furniture store that put him out onto Canal Street. Nightwing took Canal Street to the Manhattan Bridge and the Bridge over into Brooklyn. Coming off the Bridge Nightwing took a right onto Tillary Street then a left onto Cadman Plaza. Passing Montague Street, Nightwing made a right onto Joralemon Street, a right onto Hicks street and finally a right onto Remsen Street, one block over from Montague. ‘Damn, ya just gotta love all the one way street madness that is New York’ Nightwing complains as he secures his bike before climbing up a fire escape to take make a visual recon of BlackRose Inks Studio and Rose Morgan’s apartment on Montague.

&&&&&&&&

After giving Red ten minutes alone in her bedroom, time to get himself properly positioned and prepared, Rose entered to find him kneeling on the floor in the approved ‘Parade Rest’ position but seething with emotions. Even with the short amount of time they’ve been together, Rose understood what’s going on. Red is in this state not because he doesn’t want to be here and is forcing himself to stay, but because he wants, no, needs to be here and the strength of that need has his emotions roiling.

This usually happens when Red is dealing with personal issues, especially issues with whoever it is he feels so strongly for. When they last spoke Red did report that the signal on his tattoo was damaged, which is Red’s code for ‘personal problems shit’. And Rose knows one sure way to help Red through this.

Stalking over to the man who has made himself hers, Rose grabbed Red up by his hair pulling him up into a rough, through kiss. Releasing him Rose ordered Red to stand presenting his wrists. Retrieving a pair of leather wrist cuffs and two length of rope Rose strapped the cuffs to Red’s wrists and attached the rope to the cuffs. Wrapping Red’s arms across his chest Rose secures them behind his back creating a jacketless straight jacket. Picking up a police issue hobble cord Rose pulled a very sturdy wooden chair parallel to the side of her bed so that her dominant hand was free to act and sat down.

“Over my lap, now,” Rose ordered.

Gracelessly Red draped himself over Rose’s ample thighs with the top portion of his body falling on top of her bed. Rose positioned her Red’s ass across her lap to her liking before looping the hobble cord around his thighs about two hands lengths below his buttcheeks then securing cord to the rear chair leg. Red was now prevented from either kicking or rolling free from the spanking he truly needed.

“In the state your in tonight ordering you to count would be an act of futility, besides, I’ll end this spanking when *I* feel like you’ve had enough,” Rose informed hers. Normally she would have re-established their safe-words but as agitated as Red is now, she can’t be certain that he’d even use them if he needed to. Rose will have to use her ability to read bodies honed as a tattooist to gage his safety.

After wrapping her left arm around Red’s body to both hold him in place and provide her with the maximal physical contact to gage his reactions, Rose takes a moment to appreciate the beautifully masculine ass presented for her enjoyment. She knows that Red really needed this. That he used the emotional catharsis of the spanking to flush away the emotional detritus of his complicated interpersonal relationships, but Rose loved being the one to inflict this sensual pain. Loved being the one trusted to see the vulnerable side of this powerful man, loved escorting him down this path of tears and release. Rose loved spanking the hell out of Red’s ass!

Rose began her spanking slowly and softly using only her bare hand, gradually increasing in intensity until Red began to redden and he began tensing his body, fighting and resisting her efforts. Finally Rose delivered an extremely hard whack to his reddened ass.

“Stop fighting me or suffer,” she promised.

Rose can feel Red’s body shudder at this but he continued to tense and now twitch in anticipation of her blows. Sighing in disgust Rose reached behind her into the draw on her bedside table and fished about for the length of ginger she left there just incase Red became difficult. Taking out the six inch finger of ginger, carved with a bulbous head at one end and an indentation one-third of the way down to hinder accidental loss or expulsion, Rose gives it a quick dip in a previously placed glass of water before spreading Red’s cheeks in preparation for insertion.

“This is all your own fault Baby,” she replied to Red’s whimpers as the juices from the ginger butt-plug began to seep into the insides of his ass. Rose waits as Red begins a new form of twitching as the inside of his ass is set on fire. She also waits for him to make every ginger afflicted sub’s blunder, tensing up with the sensation. Doing this makes it all worse and the ginger bite harder. Now Rose has an ass that won’t twitch or clinch to brace against her.

Since she has seasoned Red’s ass, Rose proceeds to tenderize it with a paddle that’s matte leather on one side and patented leather on the other. Starting with the matte leather side Rose returns to spanking Red, no longer having to worry about him fighting her efforts now that he is being pre-occupied by the ginger’s exquisite warmth inside of him.

Jason’s whole world shrank down to his ass, to the burning inside and the stinging pain outside. The twin sensations leave no room for any other thoughts, not when or what or where and especially not who or why-why not. The only thoughts that occupy his mind right now are “damn my ass’s on fire” and “ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow”

Now that Red was no longer able to resist his spanking it began to affect him. After stroke seventy-five Red begins punctuating each stroke with a grunt of pain that devolved into groaning and panting sometime after stroke eighty-seven. The skin on Red’s ass had progressed from red to crimson when Rose paused to assess her handiwork as well as check for skin breakage. The pause is brief and barely noticed when she resumes her work. And work it is spanking a man trained to function through pain and injury until he reaches catharsis, but also, a labor of love. This is what her Red needs right now to find relief from whatever emotions are binding him up. He needed this physical pain to cry then use these tears to wash away his emotional pain.

By stroke one hundred Red’s ass skin is not only deep crimson but hot to the touch. Rose could also feel the hardened heat of Red’s erection stretched across her lap displaying for her the agony and ecstasy of this spanking held for him. By stroke one hundred twenty Rose felt Red’s emotional bubble give way as the tension seeped out of his body like sugar through a sieve and he began to shake from the power of his near silent sobs. Flipping the paddle over to its patent leather side she delivers a finishing fifteen strokes. She found that the extra strokes after the tears start help maintain the emotional release and place a final punctuating period on her spanking session.

Gently separating Red’s cheeks Rose removed the finger of ginger before disengaging the hobble cord from his thighs allowing his legs and lower body to slide to the floor between her outstretched knees. Reaching around Red Rose releases the knots holding his arms around him, quickly finding herself enveloped in a hug with Red’s arms wrapped around her waist. Gathering hers into her arms Rose silently comforts Red as his cleansing tears flow.

&&&&&&&&

Swinging through the night sky over New York, Nightwing patrols the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood he’s been investigating. Dick noticed Jason’s bike parked in an alley behind 110 Montague just where the inert bug’s GPS placed it, right behind the registered address where Rose Morgan has both her apartment and high end tattoo studio. The two units are reported to have the very latest in security systems.

According to the files Dick downloaded from the BatSystems Database the units have unmarked one way windows, all with heat reflecting, one way bullet-proof glass. The walls of these units are hyperinsulated and reinforced with concrete posts as well as rebar with both electronic audio and video inhibitors, which is of course why his ultra high tech bug is not able to get a signal out. Finally the security system is hot linked to 911, not a call center, and there are several ‘panic buttons’ installed in concealed locations.

“And I thought Bruce was paranoid, sheesh,” Dick reflects. “The only bright spots are that the new bugs I created can record hours of information and send it in a information burst at it’s earliest opportunity and that all Morgan’s security was initially installed by Stark Industries but with a complete upgrade by Wayne Tech so if I have to get inside I can get Oracle to hack into WT and get the access codes.”

Since he won’t be able to learn a thing staring at that building Nightwing swings back to his bike and heads over to the Capes & Masks bar, Sanctuary, to see what others in their community have to say about Rose Morgan and BlackRose Ink.

&&&&&&&&

Following his release a much more pliant Red kneeled before his Domme, Rose, waiting patiently for her pleasure. He soon found himself facing the Suspension Gym Rose has secured over her closet’s mirrored doors. Rose had the gym modified with welded on D-Rings to facilitate restraining play partners with their arms raised above their heads. Rose used the cuffs and rope she placed on Red for his spanking to tie him to the Gym facing her closet’s mirrored surface. Walking in front of Red Rose placed her body between him and the mirror to tell her Red how proud she is of him, how pleased that he took such a long spanking for her but that there is more she has planned for him this night.

“Do you accept my use of your body for my pleasure?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Red answers quietly.

“While I make use of your body you are responsible for your safety. What are your safe words?” Rose asks.

“When it’s too much, Shakespeare and when I’m good, Clancy Ma’am,” Red answers.

Smiling a predatory smile Rose rose up on her toes to bless Red with a chaste kiss on his cheek. Moving down she kissed his neck then shoulder before leaning in and biting him on his chest, not enough to draw blood but hard enough to mark him. Moving down Red’s chest Rose stops to pinch, lave and suck on his nipples. When she has Red panting and arching into her mouth’s work Rose placed clamps on his nipples eliciting hisses of pain from hers.

“Those are just so pretty on you Red,” Rose croons.

Sinking down to her knees Rose takes Red’s hardened cock in her hands, stroking her fingers up and down its length and bringing it’s head down to her mouth. Flicking out her tongue Rose caressed Red’s head while her hands began to pump themselves up and down gripping it firmly. Red resumed making pleasurable sounds while holding his hips as still as possible. He’d learned the repercussions of making demands on his Domme, even if they are non-verbal, early in their relationship. Welts from being hit with her cane would make the three hour ride back to Gotham a bitch and a half.

Rose removed her hands from Red’s cock, one reaching forward to gently squeeze his balls while her other reached into her cleavage to pull out a length of red cord slightly thicker than a curtain pull. Removing her mouth from his cock with an obscenely wet ‘plop’, Rose took the cord and wrapped it around the base of Red’s cock tying it just tight enough to keep his attention and delay ejaculation. Rose next wrapped several lengths of cord around the top of his balls, stretching then separating them before using the rest of the cord to bind up his cock ending with a bow tie on top just under its head. Red’s cock weeps for her.

“And that’s a pretty, pretty look on you too,” she smiled.

Rising from her knees Rose walked out from in front of Red allowing him to finally see himself. The nipple clamps are the same shade of red as the cord tied around his cock. But it’s Rose’s bite mark that held Jason’s attention. Although his body is covered in scars and mostly healed wounds Rose’s marks hold a special meaning to Jason. They say to him that someone really and truly sees him and understands.

Walking up behind hers Rose reached around Red’s body to tap at each nipple clamp; run her hands down his body and grasp his bound cock.

From behind Red’s suspended form Rose announced that “I am not finished with you, not by a long shot. Actually I am just getting started,” Red warns hers. Jason closed his eyes and leaning back into Rose’s embrace surrendered himself to Rose’s tender mercies.

Her Red is a pain slut. Rose knew this and worked out how to hurt him real good despite the many, many scars and partially healed wounds scattered over his body. She walked over to her dresser, where she’s laid out all the toys she plans to use tonight, and picked up a set of bamboo skewers Rose returned to her Red and carefully placing the skewer against his skin on an area free of scars or wounds, pulled the tip back then released it allowing the tip to snap painfully back into place. Rose smiled at Red’s jerk and hiss in reaction to her skewer action and repeated it, often, on various patches of clear skin.

Rose spent the next hour or so keeping Red off balance with mixed applications of pain and pleasure. She tickled him with feathers, ran her Wartenberg pinwheel along paths of clear skin like down his spine and onto her Red’s still painful reddened ass-cheeks. She massaged and teased his senses then ran ice cubes up and down his spine and over Red’s pinched nipples. Finally Rose attached clothes pins attached to lengths of twine to his body. When she pulled on the twine all the pins are ripped off one by one in a move called the zipper that never fails to make Red raise up on his tippy toes as he cries out in pain.

Again walking up behind her Red Rose holds him in her arms, a solid comfort after a sea of sensations that grounded Red who was still in the midst of his endorphin storm.

“Red,” Rose asks, “how are you doing in there, where are you?”

Panting and trembling Jason allows him self the time to come back to himself before he answered, “I’m Clancy Ma’am, I’m Clancy, I’m good, thank you.”

Tipping up on her toes Rose nuzzles the back of Red’s neck before biting it at the junction of neck and shoulder, not enough to mark but hard enough to further ground him in the here and now. Moving around in front of her Red, Rose reaches up to grasp his chin, making sure that he is enough in the present to understand her.

“Red, I’m going to remove the nipple clamps now, be ready,” she warns. Giving Red a few breaths to steel himself Rose reaches up and removes the clamp from his right nipple. Red gasps with the rush of pain as both circulation and sensation returns to his abused nub. While he regained his breath Rose holds her Red’s waist, reminding him that he’s not alone in this. After he regained his breath Rose warns him that she’s about to remove the clamp on his left nipple, holding him again as he recovers from the sudden return of sensation. This time before he can completely recover Rose reached down to grasp her Red’s bound cock.

“I am going to release you from this tie,” she informed him.

Removing the red cord she bound her Red’s cock in Rose watched his expression as the pressure that only increased with his arousal, slowly gave way. When she is just about to release the last few loops around the base of his cock Rose warns him,

“Even though I am releasing you, you are not to cum until I allow it, understand!?”

“Yes Ma’am, I won’t cum, not until you let me,” Red replies.

Walking back to her dresser Rose picks up a pair of black cats paws, rabbit fur covered mittens with sharpened-to-the-point-of-sensation banjo picks sewn into their finger tips. Returning to her Red, Rose wrapped her arms around his body from behind, splaying her fur clad hands against the paler skin of his torso. Red again leaned back into her embrace as much as his bound form would allow.

“Damn, you are so, so beautiful when you’re like this, open, ready, pliant, mine!” Rose exclaims softly.

After leaning up to bite her Red’s left shoulder Rose begins to move her hands over his body, stroking and massaging it with her furred prickly paws. Pressed up against his back Rose could feel her Red’s body shudder and shiver as she ran her paws over his highly sensitized nipples and along one of the zipper lines over his stomach. She ran her hands down his sides and flanks before running the sharpened tips back up and over his ribs. She ran her hands up her Red’s chest and out to his arms, grazing his pits with her claws on the down stroke, eliciting what sounded suspiciously like a giggle from the fearsome Red Hood.

Finally Rose moves her hands down towards her Red’s hardened cock. There she ran her furred hands around his groin, combing her claws up the insides of his thighs, combed them through the wiry hairs surrounding his sex. Rose bought her right up to her mouth in order to remove that cat’s paw. Simultaneously she reached down with her left paw covered hand to scoop her Red’s balls up in their fur covered grip. Pressing her body firmly against her Red’s still painful ass Rose gripped Red’s cock with her bare right hand stroking her’s firmly.   
Jason found himself trapped between heaven and hell, between the pleasure of Rose’s hands on his cock and the pain of her pressing against his aching ass. With neither sensation taking precedence Jason found himself on that knife’s edge between the two, panting, straining for one, groaning, allowing the other to just wash through him.

Rose used the pre-cum leaking out of her Red to slick up her hand allowing her to grip him tighter, like he strokes himself when she orders him to jerk off in front of her. This plus her caressing her Red’s ballsack nudges him closer to cumming causing Red to pant and shake.

“I gotta…Ma’am please, I’m gonna, can’t, can’t, I’m trying but, damn, Ma’am trying to hold...” Red babbles with is thighs shaking with the effort of trying to hold on.

“Hold it for me, just a little while longer,” Rose orders while continuing to stroke his cock. She continues until her Red’s pants and pleas turn to groans of painful pleasure.

“Ma’am, Ma’am, I, I, I…”

“Cum for me,” Rose orders while flicking her thumb over that most sensitive notch just under the head of his cock. In the space of a breath Red groans and shivers with his release as he coats his Domme’s hands with his cum. When he’d finished Rose brought this hand up to her Red’s mouth for him to lick clean.

“Where are you, how are you after all-a that?” Rose asks once her hand is cum free.

Breathing hard, harder than after a long chase across rooftops her Red answers, “Clancy…still, still, still Clancy Ma’am.”

“Good, excellent actually since I’m still far from finished with you tonight,” Rose purrs. “I bought something for you while you were gone, two somethings actually,” she sing songs while walking away from her Red’s still trembling body. When she returns Rose draped the flattened strands of a moose hide floggers across her Red’s shoulders.

Jason’s tremors turn to shudders of anticipation at the weight of leather draped across his body. Floggers, two of them, that meant that Rose is going to give him a two fisted Florentine Flogging. And the smallest of smiles twitched the corner of his lips.

Untying her Red’s arms from suspension Rose allows him to let them hang by his sides while she threads and secures a spreader bar through what looked like coat hooks on either side of her closet door. Retying his arms to the spreader bar in front of him Rose tells her Red,

“As you can guess I am going to Florentine Flog you and you will take it. You can make all the noise you wish but you are not to move. Movement will earn you punishment strokes and punishment welts that will mar your beautiful survivor’s hide. Do you understand?” Rose asks.

“Yes Ma’am, you are gonna double flog me and I’ll take it. I can make noise; I’m not suppose ta move. Yeah, I’ve got it,” Jason answers in a voice that sounds like it’s coming from so far away inside his own head.

“And what happens if you move?”

“Punishment, I get punished Ma’am,” he answered.

“Good, I’m glad you understand. I am going to begin now,”

Rose removed the floggers from her Red’s shoulders and begun to swing them without touching him to establish her rhythm. Once she has her swing set Rose allows the strands of the matched floggers engage with her Red’s skin.

Jason shivered when the heavy leather strands began to brush against his back as the flogging began. Soon the light brush became a heaver thud as the weight of the leather was bought into play and Rose began to pelt his shoulders and upper back with her strokes. Timing his breathing to match the rhythm Jason allowed the sensations to wash through him as he prepared for the coming pain as Rose increased the intensity of her strokes adding a stinging quality to the session.

Akin to their tattoo session Rose and her Red entered into their non-verbal dance where actions are followed by acceptance. Rose smiles as she watches her Red fall gently into subspace as he all but pushes back into her strokes.

After a time what started out as something he could breathe through and work with evolved into an exquisite pain that blossomed across Jason’s upper back. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take it any longer Rose moved her aim so that the heavy moose leather stroked the already tender skin of his ass and thighs. Now struggling not to move Jason reaches for that place inside of himself where pain is examined, catalogued then accepted as a part of himself. Before this pain became more than he can handle Rose returned her attention to his upper back. Again, Jason is able to slide back into his headspace, his subspace, where he doesn’t have to. Doesn’t have to worry or care or deal or anything. All he has to do is be.

Rose remained very attentive to her Red so that before her strokes reached the level of pain that would have thrown him out of his subspace she began to lessen their intensity, bringing her’s down, bring him back to himself. Rose walks up to her Red holding him from behind as she walks him closer to the spreader bar. There she unties his wrists and allows him to sink down to his knees. While he’s down there, still existing in his endorphin storm, Rose stoops down behind her Red to check the skin on his back for breaks or bleeding. Rose even has him tip forward on his knees to check the skin on his much abused ass.

Sitting back on her heels Rose begun to fondle and swat her Red’s reddened and hot ass cheeks, using the pain she caused to slide him out of subspace cause she wasn’t finished with her’s yet.

Jason blinked and hissed at the revived pain on his ass, but never even attempted to move away from his Domme.

Rose, noticing her Red is not more alert, pulls him back up into a kneeling position so that she could whisper in his ear.

“You are my favorite canvas baby, you take pain so very well and damn if that don’t make me hot. I love the way you take it when I clamp you nipples or spank your ass on fire. The sight of your flesh reddening under my hands makes my nipples hard. The way you squirm and hiss when I run zipper lines and damn the way you can take a flogging just makes me wet and hot and ready, ready to fuck you,” she purrs in his ear. Standing while holding a fistful if his hair in her hand Rose shoves her Red towards her bed.

Following her impetuses Jason moves over to Rose’s bed to wait and watch her as she got prepared.

Rose began by rolling up the front of her long skirt and, using the tabs of cloth sewn on the inside of the skirt, ties them to her belt loops so that the skirt stays up. Next she walked over to her dresser and picks up a very realistically shaped black strapless vibrating Feeldoe Stout dildo. Putting one foot up on the chair she sat in to spank her Red, Rose reached down, spread her neither-lips and eased her end of the Feeldoe up inside her hot, wet cunt.

Watching Rose insert her rubber cock then place her foot back on the floor and adjust herself was on of the hottest things Jason had ever seen. Especially when she approached him with that hip rolling predatory gait, and that look in her eyes, the look that screams that she’s starving and he’s delicious. Jason became so hard his cock hurts.

“Roll your ass over, I want to fuck it now!” Rose orders.

Flipping over onto the bed Red positions himself on his hands and knees, face down on the bed, buried in one of her wonderfully exotic smelling blankets, with his knees bent, spread wide and pulled up close to his chest placing his ass at the perfect height for Rose to fuck him.

Behind him Jason heard the sound of latex snapping a moment before feeling Rose’s gloved hands ghosting over the still warm skin of his ass-cheeks. He gave a soft grunt of pleasure as he felt Rose’s now slick fingers circling his hole, gently pressing in until she breached him. Releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding Jason relaxed his body to accept Rose’s fingers as she slowly worked first one, then two and finally three fingers deep inside his ass. It was all Jason could do not to rock back onto his Domme’s hand as she worked her fingers back and forth while stretching them out, while stretching him out.

Finally Rose removed her fingers leaving Jason feeling empty and wanting. But not for long. Jason curls his toes in his effort to stay still as Rose began to slide her five and three-quarter inch by one and three-quarter inch black dildo in his ass. Jason found himself moaning deep in his throat as that monster dildo, wider than anything or anyone Jason’s ever had in him before, began to fill his ass. Feeling his ass-cheeks come in contact with Rose’s body Jason sighed as she sank the last available inch of rubber cock inside of him.

Breathing around that wonderful burn Jason relaxes to allow his body to accommodate her rubber cock while he waited for Rose to begin working his ass. After a few moments Rose pulls back to begin stroking her cock in and out of his body in with slow steady strokes. Jason felt Rose settle her hands on his hips and steeled himself for more, receiving it as Rose began fucking him harder, angling her cock so that it began to rub across his sweet spot. Since he was already hard and leaking by the time his Domme began fucking him Jason it doesn’t take long before he found himself shouting out his release into the warm scented blanket under him. But Rose doesn’t stop.

“Damn Red, you have such a sweet ass,” Rose whispers between strokes. “I love spanking it, and tying you up and flogging it so much. Damn Baby, topping you makes me so hot I just gotta fuck you,” she continues with a grin in her voice. Neither stopping nor slowing Rose shifted her position so that her left hand splays out on the bed near Jason’s head while her left hand is used to hold down his neck. Jason groaned as Rose’s changed position shifts more of her body’s weight down on top of him, pinning him, holding him down while her changed position bought her cock into more direct contact with his sweet spot.

While Rose used him to take her pleasure with his body she rolled a heavy growl deep in her throat. It’s nothing like theirs…his, but it’s enough to trigger a soul deep response within Jason. It’s not Rose Jason hears but him, his deep growl; it’s not Rose’s hand Jason feels but his leather gloves holding him by the back of the neck, pressing him down, stripping away his everything and fucking Jason into the mattress.

Caught between his fantasy and his reality caused Jason’s recently spent cock to twitch back to life, growing and hardening faster than any other time outside of Rose’s apartment. Panting, Jason arches his back and angles his body to get more, harder, deeper strokes from the woman fucking him.

“Oh Red, you are such a greedy ass slut, I’d make you pay for that move but it’s working for me…I’m so close, so damn close,” Rose moans as she worked his ass to reach her own completion.

Jason, grateful that he dodged the bullet this time, curled his fists into the bed clothes, groaning with the mounting exquisite pleasure until a horse cry is ripped from his throat as his climax is ripped from his body.

Breathing heavily Rose stills on top of him whimpering with what sounded like frustration.

“So close, so damn close, Red, your ass is so sweet, but I need…” Jason heard Rose murmur a moment before he’s hit with a deep throbbing vibration that traveled up Rose’s rubber cock into his ass. Now Rose’s bedroom is filled with the sounds of Rose moaning and panting as the ‘saddle’ of her Feeldoe dildo throbbed and massaged her G-Spot and clit as well as the whimpering and groaning as all Jason could do is hold on as his world lightened and brightened before it whited out all together as his painfully pleasurable sensations climaxed and he came dry as his body had run through it’s readily available seed.

Cast so deeply into the comforting cottony realm of subspace Jason was barely aware of Rose as she held and praised him for taking such a long fucking for her. He was barely conscious of her as she cleaned him up before tucking him in her bed between layers of crisp clean sheets and exotically scented warm blankets. Held in her warm embrace Jason floated among the sensations of being used, feeling spent and being safe as he drifted off into a healing sleep.

 

TBC


	6. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: I Understand 6/? : Secrets Revealed  
> Author: Ladyblkrose  
> Characters: Dick Grayson (Nightwing/Batman), Rose Morgan (OC)/Jason Todd (Red Hood)  
> Continuity: Roseverse Crossover AU  
> Ratings: NC-17  
> Warnings: Explicit Het sex, desires for M/M sex, SM and Bondage  
> Word Count: 3,577  
> Disclaimer: Their characters belong to them, my character belongs to me, I started broke and I ended broke but with a great sense of accomplishment.   
> Summary: Dick discovers what Jason is up to in NYC and with whom. This discovery creates more questions than answers for Dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In my universes I picture Gotham and Metropolis as being twin cities on opposite sides of Delaware Bay, with Gotham City in New Jersey and Metropolis in Delaware. I use the Metropolis entry in Wikipedia for my reference which is different from the Gotham City entry, but it fits my purposes so much better.

Dick groaned, rolled over and beat the hell out of the alarm clock on the bedside table. Unfortunately this did nothing to silence the horrible sound echoing around in his head. Sitting up he looks blearily around the bedroom of this New York safe house wondering where in the heck sound was coming from. It wasn’t his phone, or what’s left of the clock, or even his computer telling him there is an incoming mail. Getting out of bed Dick searches around the apartment before realizing that the sound is coming from the comm unit still in his ear.

He must have been more tired than he thought to fall asleep with his comm unit still in place. It had been a long while since he worked New York and almost a year out of his Nightwing uniform, many things had changed.

Everything seemed to go ass over teacups after leaving Rose Morgan’s Brooklyn tattoo studio. He had planned on heading to Manhattan for more recon when Nightwing intercepted a NYPD radio car call for back-up. A Marine Special Op corpsman, recently returned from the Middle East, had barricaded himself his apartment and booby-trapped all access to the place. The cops had the whole block cordoned off and were awaiting the arrival of both an S.W.A.T. team and the Marines Special Ops Personnel Recovery team.

“Well you can say one thing for the Marines; they at least help defuse their own when one of them to cracks up out in the public eye,” Nightwing mutters to himself on route to the cordoned off building.

Making his way to the building roof undetected, Nightwing climbed down the ventilation shaft, staying up on the ceilings and upper walls, bypassing or defusing as many booby-traps as he could before subduing the hallucinating Marine, and his modified Benelli M4 Super 90 shotgun, with a bolo wing-ding and some zip-ties. That was the easy part, convincing the NYPD and the Marines that he was a Cape and not a Mask was a little harder. What ended the heated stalemate were a couple of older detectives who remembered when he worked New York as Nightwing.

“I know, I know, the Nightwing you guys know flies and works with that Flamebird chick. This is the old Nightwing; you know he used to be a Titan when they had their base out in the Harbor? This is the one with the great ass that won’t quit!” Detective Evelyn Turner smiled.

“And you ain’t never lied about that,” her twin Detective Evan Turner added. “Nightwing’s ass is so fine that it made you stop and stare as he sailed overhead on those ropes or wire guns he used to swing around the city with.”

“Still here and can hear you,” Nightwing groused.

“That was the point of the conversation,” the Detectives cooed in unison.

Blushing furiously, Nightwing thanked the officers for their assistance in clearing things up, then fired off his grapple gun to sail off into the night. A part of him loathed this attention, but another part missed it as well. Wearing the Batman uniform, whose cape hid his…assets, seemed to have changed his life in ways he hadn’t even recognized.

Of course his night hadn’t stopped with this incident. Before he could get out of Brooklyn Nightwing stopped two muggings, a car-jacking and a break-in at the new Target Superstore. Finally getting over the Brooklyn Bridge Nightwing wound up breaking up a bar-fight that had spilled out onto the streets of Chinatown, he caught the CEO of a small brokerage firm as he attempted to commit suicide while riding through the financial district, and stopped a woman from beating her supposedly unfaithful lover to death with her shoe when he finally reach the Meat-Packing District of Manhattan where Jerry and Beverly Sledge had opened up their infamous Capes and Masks watering hole, Sanctuary.

Inside Nightwing makes his way up to the bar to say hi to Jerry and to Beverly, his wife, who ran things with a velvet gloved iron fist. As long as no one causes any problems, throws any punches, draws any weapons, and is legal, they can come in and enjoy themselves. But if you cross the line, you get an up close and personal understand as to why Jerry was called Stonewall and his wife was known as GaleForce.

“‘Winger! Long time, no see. I was worried that you went down with Bludhaven when it imploded,” Jerry exclaimed sliding Nightwing his favorite drink when he used to live in New York and a frequent visitor in Sanctuary.

“Jerry, Beverly, it’s great to see you guys again,” Nightwing answered accepting his virgin Tropical Fruit Smoothie, with extra protein, the perfect drink to cool down yet power up when taking a short break from working the streets, on either side of the law.

“So, not seeing you for over a year ‘Winger, what you been working undercover or outta the country or what?” Jerry asks

“Oh a little of one, some of the other and a lotta *what*,” Nightwing answers before leaning up to place a kiss on Beverly’s proffered cheek.

“Oh leave the boy alone Jerry especially since you’re not a boy any longer, are you Nightwing,” Beverly states shooing her husband away to tend the bar. “So are you going back out or are you in for the night?”

“I’m in for the night. I just came back to stretch my wings a little before getting back to *what* so hit me up with a plate of your famous mini-burgers and waffle fries,” Nightwing answers smiling. “Oh, and another Fruit Smoothie, but one with some experience if you know what I mean.”

Beverly places his food and drink order then settles in to catch up with one of the former *young’uns* she and Jerry use to keep an eye on back in the day. Nightwing takes the time to enjoy talking with Beverly, catching up on all the recent Capes and Masks gossip as well as gathering information on the tattoo artist, Rose Morgan.

&^ &^&^&^&^&^

‘I got a lot of personal endorsements of Rose Morgan’s personality and sense of integrity but no real info on her operation outside of the fact that someone who has been a customer of hers has to recommend you for a tattoo if she doesn’t know you, shit. But the night wasn’t a total loss, I also got some info on a definite lack of activity by the Fiduciary Redistribution Revolution or it’s more American incarnation, the Equalizers. Neither has been making any signs of activity in New York since we took out that cell in Long Island City’, Dick admits to himself. ‘If, if Jason isn’t up to something that needs intervention maybe I’ll go undercover to the New York franchise of Cobblepot’s Cuckoo’s Nest Bar and Grill to see if they have any information on the FRR or Equalizers. It’s been a while since Freddie Dinardo’s been out on the streets of New York but his underworld connections are still intact.’

Dick is just returning from the kitchen with a hot cup of coffee in his hands when his computer alerts him that the inertia bug he placed on Jason has sent him a burst download of information. It’s only Dick’s acrobatic abilities and training that saved his computer from a shower of black coffee as he raced to his laptop to see what he received. According to the time-stamp, the bug recorded seventeen hours of information before it was able to send it download and reset itself.

Breathing deeply to calm himself down, Dick opens up the compressed file of information. Information that will finally let him know what his Little Wing has been up too. Information that will finally answer many questions. So why is he waiting to activate the file? Taking another deep breath and wiping his sweaty palms off on the legs of the sweatpants he slept in, Dick hit the key that activated the compressed audio/visual file.

Inert Unit 1.2.99 Burst Download Decompression Commencing

Dick waited for the information to be reconstructed from its compressed state into something that can be watched and evaluated. The wait made the coffee he’d just drunk sit in his stomach like molten liquid lead.

Inert Unit 1.2.99 Burst Download Decompressed, Processing Information

Unable to sit still while the computer processed the burst download Dick flipped himself around in his chair to do handstand push-ups off its arms. Again, a part of Dick simply hoped that Jay’d found someone to be with, someone to… Again, another part of Dick hoped that Jay’s just working on a case that he’s kept under tight security. Again, a third part of Dick expected Jay to be caught up in something he knows that the rest of the family will disapprove of which is why he’s kept it such a secret. Whatever his Little Wing is up to Dick knows that he will get to the bottom of it in a few minutes.

Inert Unit 1.2.99 Burst Download Processed.   
Initiate Viewing Y/N?

Dick almost fell out of his chair in his haste to hit the Y and then the Enter keys. Settling down he watches the image of an apartment building door come into focus. It’s opened by a rather robust woman of color, Rose Morgan. She seems happy to see Jason.

“Good evening Red, come on in,” Dick watched Rose beckon as she let Jason in then caught him up in a tight hug.

He notes that this Rose woman doesn’t know Jason’s identity, just his code name. She’s saying something that’s muffled as she hugs Jay. Dick has that section of recording isolated for further analysis.

Dick is surprised to see this Morgan woman press Jason up against a wall then shove her knee between his legs, and was even more astonished to see Jason pressing himself down on her knee before shuttering his eyes closed! Dick is incredulous watching Jason just follows Morgan’s **command** to go to the bathroom then wait for her in her bedroom!

“What the fuck!”

In the bathroom Jason must have folded the jacket so that the visuals were gone but Dick could hear him use the facilities and wash up before moving into what must be Morgan’s bedroom. Visuals returned when Jay hung the jacket up on something that allowed Dick a good look at most of the room. This is both a blessing and a curse as he watches his brother, kneel naked on the floor as if this is the last place he wants to be.

“What kind of hold does this woman have on my Little Wing!?”

Dick watched in sick fascination as this Morgan bitch manhandled his brother, placing him in restraints Jay could have escaped from _before_ he started his Robin training…This woman was in no way strong enough to force his Little Wing to do this unless she is a meta, and his investigation didn’t indicate that Morgan had any evidence of metahuman abilities.

Dick’s mind saw what was about to happen, the position Jay allowed this woman to place him in, the way that Morgan stroked his Little Wing’s ass, the things she said to Jason, telling him that she what she was going to do…but when the first blow landed it was only the fact that this, this, this activity happened almost a day ago that kept Dick from bolting from the room to go rescue Jason.

With mute astonishment Dick watched as his little brother, _his_ Little Wing, allowed this woman to hurt him! Dick watched Morgan spank Jason and spank Jason and then spank him some more, until finally inside of Jay broke and he began sobbing like a child. He watched his brother then be comforted and praised as if he were a child.

It seemed as if something in Jason changed as Dick watched Jason allow this Morgan woman to tie him over her closet door. He saw them talking to one another but due to the angle of the shot and pitch of their voices he couldn’t make out what they were saying without further analysis. What Dick did see was the way that Morgan woman played his brother’s body like a harp. He watched her hurt him with some type of clamps to his nipples, watched her kneel and suck him hard before tying his cock up in red rope. Watched that Morgan woman pleasure, torment then whip his brother into a frenzy with a pair of floggers.

Unable to take his eyes from the computer Dick watched his little brother twitch, groan, hiss, and moan. He watched Jason cry out and lean into each of the painful as well as the pleasurable sensations. Dick watched his bad-to-the-bone, kick-ass, blow ‘em all to hell and back brother call this Morgan woman Ma’am! breathlessly, needy, shamelessly.

“Oh Jason, Little Wing,” Dick groaned as he watched that Morgan woman kneel behind his little brother after he’d collapsed from her flogging cooing things so nasty they made his squirm.

Dick felt his heart speed up even more and sat transfixed as he watched Morgan yank Jason to his feet then throw his brother to her bed, ordering Jason to,

“Roll your ass over, I want to fuck it, now,”

before doing just that, fucking Jason in the ass, hard and fast with some crazy strapless dildo, over and over again until Jason passed out screaming as he came.

Slumping back in his chair Dick released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding until now. He also looks down at his cock that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding until now as well. Staring down at himself, down at his hard and leaking cock in his hand, Dick knew that it would only take a stroke or two to make him cum all over his hand he was just that hard!

“What kind of sick shit am I to get so damn turned on by watching this…..” Dick moans grabbing his hair with his non-penis-holding hand.

Slamming his head back against the chair back Dick tries to process all that he’s seen, all of what Jason either allowed or was coerced into allowing to happen. The rational detective in him was nattering on about BDSM and power exchange, of how strong forceful people often sought out this type of extreme role reversal in order to gain a prospective on their lives… The agitated brother in him was railing against the fact that this woman just spanked, tortured, whipped then fucked his little brother into unconsciousness!

While the fore argument would explain Jason’s recent bouts of almost calm behavior, his episodes of near cooperation, and his moments of close clarity…the agitated brother in him could only argue that Jason must be under coercion or mind control or being blackmailed or, or, or, or; because that woman just spanked and tortured and whipped and fucked his little brother into unconsciousness!

Dick felt jealously rise up his throat like bile!

“How dare she beat _him_ , I mean how dare he allow _her_ to beat him! No, I mean why is _she_ beating my Little Wing? Why is he letting her? Why her? Why not me! Really! I can take it just as well as he can! No! I, I, I mean, I can dish it out just as well as she can!” Dick sputtered and whined.

Dick felt his hold on this situation slip even further out of his hands when he glanced back his computer in time to see what that Morgan woman was doing to Jason’s unconscious body. Dick watched her lovingly wash Jason down and make him comfortable before tucking him in her bed and turning off the lights.

Using his hair to shake his head once again Dick decided that none of this made sense. Not one single bit of sense! Dick also realized that at this moment, the only solid thing in his life that he had any assurance of was the painfully hard and still leaking cock he was holding on to tightly with his right hand. A cock made hard while watching that woman spank and torture and whip and fuck his brother Jason, a cock that twitched traitorously at his thoughts, memories of all that shit Morgan did to Jason. A cock still hard after hearing the sounds of pleasure and pain Jason made, at the breathy pants of “Yes Ma’am”, at the scream of release that last time. A cock now about to burst as Dick’s hand squeezed and stroked himself to completion, almost against his volition until Dick saw white sparks as bright as magnesium flares behind his eyelids as he came all over his hand.

Breathing heavily Dick slowly opens his eyes then sighs. Removing the wife beater he fell asleep in Dick used it to clean himself off before chucking it into the corner where the rest of his uniform lie crumpled into a pile.

Still unable to move while still trying to process all that he just saw Dick slumped back in his chair staring at nothing, oblivious of what was happening on his computer. The inertia bug, working true to form and programming, sped past recorded moments of inactivity only to slow down when some sort of activity restarted once again. Dick was startled out of his stupor when he heard Rose re-enter her bedroom. Looking up he noted she was wearing nothing but a towel and was getting ready to go to bed.

“Not a……bad body, for a larger woman,” he comments out loud, “if you _like_ the whole ‘so round, so firm, so fully packed’ look.”

He half watched that Morgan woman slip into her nightwear, tie up her hair and lie down in bed next to Jason before turning out the lights.

Dick lets his head loll around on his neck returning to his earlier fugue state while his bug reset itself again for inactivity after Rose Morgan settled in bed and went to sleep. Minutes later Dick is awakened again by the sounds of someone getting out of bed on screen. Checking the time stamp he notes that five hours have elapsed since that Morgan woman went to sleep.

Looking up and adjusting the visual gain to compensate for the lack of light in the bedroom Dick watched Jason sit up and walk stiffly out of the room. He hears bathroom noises then watches Jason walk back to bed. Expecting Jason to fall back to sleep after all he’d been through Dick dropped his head down into his hands with a soft groan only to have his misery interrupted by the sounds of kissing and sighing.

Snapping his head up to stare at the screen Dick is astonished to see Jason curled around the corpulent form of that Morgan woman kissing her awake.

“Uummmm Red, baby, I told you, you don’t have…” Rose began to murmur.

“I know, but I want to, Rose, I want too,” Jason answered softly and Dick could hear the emotion in his voice.

Swallowing down more jealousy, bile, and regret Dick made himself a witness to his brother’s lovemaking because that is what this is, lovemaking. If found out he was sure that Jason will deny this until he’s blue in the face, but the fact is that Jason is taking the time to make love to and not just have sex with that Morgan woman. Dick is very sure of this as he’s become phenomenal at reading body language. He had to be in his capacity as both heir to Bruce Wayne and his involvement in the cut throat machinations of High Society and as a costumed vigilante where the need to be able to predict an opponent’s next move and counter it accordingly is a matter of life and death. Watching the care and tenderness Jason employed in sexing this Morgan woman Dick can only identify that some deep and caring emotions are behind Jason’s actions.

So Dick sat and watched with his pulse quickening and his breathing becoming a harsh panting. He watched from the initial kisses and sighs to Morgan’s repeated cries of completion. He watched his brother, his Little Wing make love to the woman who had earlier spanked and tortured and whipped and fucked him into unconsciousness.

Then Dick rewound the recording, to listen to his brother once in action once again, while stroking his newly hardened cock in time to their sexing, no, lovemaking. He went slowly when they went slow, Jason and Morgan stroking and caressing each other fully awake. Dick sped up as Jason and Morgan sped up becoming more excited, more vocal. Dick caressed and stroked them hammered his cock to match Jason so that he filled his hands with his cum at the same time Jason shouted out Morgan’s name as he climaxed into her. Dick made himself a part of their sexing. He didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t understand why, not right now, not when everything in his mind was jumbled up sideways like it is now.

“None of this makes sense. I need more answers,” Dick announces to the room, “answers that can only be supplied by one Rose Elaine Morgan, answers that can only be obtained by the Batman!”


End file.
